


No, I Never Ride the Incubus

by MistyBeethoven



Series: "Yes, I Really Am This Pathetic!" or "How to Say I Love You With a Story" [5]
Category: Constantine (2005)
Genre: Anal Sex, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Attraction, Avoidant Personality Disorder, BBW, Bathing/Washing, Breast Fucking, Breasts, Christian Character, Christian Erotica, Come Swallowing, Comedy, Decisions, Demisexuality, F/M, For Adults Only, Horror, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, Large Breasts, Los Angeles, Loss of Virginity, Love Stories, Midnight Club, Missionary Position, Moving In Together, Nipple Play, Oral Sex, Overweight, Penis In Vagina Sex, Protective, Protectiveness, Romantic Horror Comedy, Self-Indulgent, Self-Insert, Social Anxiety, Soulmates, Strip Bowling, Strip Games, Succubi & Incubi, Virginity, Weight Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-11
Updated: 2020-03-20
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:28:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 26,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22175581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MistyBeethoven/pseuds/MistyBeethoven
Summary: When an incubus begins harassing me, I seek out the help of John Constantine to be rid of the damned thing. Informing me that this particular Incubi, the Virginitas, only feeds on virgins, my plight grows more dangerous when the original incubus brings its friends along to join in the fun and killing.When Constantine vows to protect me, we look together for a way to keep both my purity and life. However, the situation only becomes more distressing when we visit Papa Midnite, who has seen the Incubi in action and reveals that their presence will corrupt John Constantine as well.As the Incubi in Los Angeles gather and draw ever closer to me, their prey, Constantine has to fight his own growing lust and arousal as I try to deal with the fact that I have fallen in love with my protector: a man who has sworn off of love altogether.
Relationships: John Constantine & Angela Dodson, John Constantine & Papa Midnite, John Constantine/Me, Me & Angela Dodson, Papa Midnite & Me
Series: "Yes, I Really Am This Pathetic!" or "How to Say I Love You With a Story" [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1589944
Comments: 10
Kudos: 62





	1. Meeting John Constantine

**Author's Note:**

> This is the fifth in my series of fics featuring Keanu Reeves characters and myself.
> 
> This is the first multi-chapter one.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I am referred to a certain exorcist when I wake up to find a demon straddling me.

Los Angeles can be Hell. I mean that in every sense of the word. I discovered it much to my surprise one night when I awoke to find a demon on top of me. He was the color of a red autumn leaf and had veins of black clearly visible under his skin. His genitals were enflamed and pressing into me and I was appropriately repulsed and horrified. The creature was trying to do something to me...something sexual...but if it thought for one moment I was about to fall for its sad and sorry little seduction attempt it was sorely mistaken.

Being demisexual I'm not attracted to anything I don't give a damn about first and Satanic creatures from Hell are completely out of the question altogether. I'm a good little (okay not _quite_ so little) Christian girl and loathe anything that offends a God I'm actually a little in love with myself. I kicked the horny bastard in his over-endowed crotch and hurried out of, not only my bedroom, but my apartment building too.

Stumbling down the Los Angeles streets in my nightshirt, I was suddenly approached by a police car and I sighed; I didn't exactly see how I was any more indecent than half the other girls on the street. It was night time, afterall and swarming with the local ladies earning their more earthly daily bread. I'm not one to judge them. Still, they are wearing far less then me so to be arrested when I am not even soliciting anything hardly seems fair.

Their thighs were rather smaller though so I thought maybe I was about to be arrested for being chubby.

A woman with long, straight brown hair popped her head out of the squad car and asked me what I thought I was doing standing in my nightie on the street corner at night.

"Not being raped by a demon," I replied expecting to be sent to a mental hospital and not the clinker.

I was surprised when the cop didn't look shocked but instead handed me a card with a name and address written on it. "Tell him Angela sent you," the woman instructed.

* * *

Angela drove me to the address written on the card when she realized that I wasn't wearing any shoes and getting there might be difficult and painful. I rode in the back of the squad car. It was cleaner than some of the taxis that I've taken. Of course, most of the passengers here had probably been wearing cuffs, making littering or having sex of some sort somewhat difficult.

As I got out of the backseat, I looked at the building. I had no idea what awaited me inside of who this John Constantine was. Looking down at my apparel, I felt even more ill at ease. I asked the cop if I could trust going to see the guy in only a purple nightie that proclaimed, "I want to go to bed."

Angela smiled wryly. "Constantine is pretty trustworthy. He bathed me once and let me keep my clothes on. Plus he's never kissed me even once despite my willingness to. You should be fine."

I nodded not wanting to know if she thought because of my extra pounds I would be doubly fine.

She drove off and I sighed heavily before entering the building.

I climbed the steps in my bare feet and came to a door which seemed absolutely normal. It took a few knocks on it before a man came to the door and looked at me moodily.

Moodily until he took in my apparel and then just looked confused.

He was a very attractive man, I realized self-consciously, with dark hair and dark eyes and a dark suit. Well, I guess, everything was dark about him except for his skin which was very pale. He reminded me of Peter Wisdom from my "Excalibur" comic books.

And I looked kind of like a fat Kitty Pryde.

I thought it should be interesting, at the very least.

"Angela sent me," I informed. "A demon was trying to rape me."

He sighed wearily and his eyes lowered until they came to rest on my feet again. "You're bleeding," he commented.

For the first time, I looked down to see that he was right. I was. That was the moment that I realized what had just happened to me.

And the moment I first started to cry and John Constantine exited the doorway, held me in his arms for a brief moment and then safely ushered me inside of his apartment before any of his non-existent neighbors could see us.

* * *

As I sat at a table, a cup of coffee clutched between my two hands, I told him what had happened and offered up a description of my attacker. When I came to the part where I had to describe its genitals, I hesitated and blushed.

"Yes?" he asked sardonically, urging me to continue past my shyness.

"Well they were _big_ ," I had stated.

"Anything else helpful?" John Constantine asked, not impressed with my lack of detail.

"He had an enormous red and black you know... as big as an elephant's and it was leaking on my thigh, I think, okay?" I described further and quickly looked down to find out that it had left something on my skin.

I let out a whimper and watched as Constantine walked to his sink, turned it on and placed a dishcloth under the stream and then handed it to me, casting a curious look at my thigh. "Here," he said.

I took it gratefully and wiped off the black gunk from my thigh.

"You're dealing with a Virginitas Incubus," he told me as he sat back down in his own chair and popped a stick of gum into his mouth.

I had a feeling that I knew what was coming next.

"Are you a virgin, Miss Smyth?"

Yes. That was what I had been fearing.

He had taken my silence as good as any reply and started to play with the wrapper from his piece of gum, folding it this way and that. "Virginitas Incubi are a very particular type of demon. They specifically feed on virgins. If one is harassing you it makes sense that you are a..."

"Virgin," I finished for him.

"Yes," he answered and placed the gum wrapper on the table. He had made it into a unicorn.

The cheeky, smart assed bastard.

"Probably one of the last in Los Angeles, I'd take it," John Constantine said with a cynical laugh.

"Well, what can I do about it?" I asked, upset.

He raised both brows and offered me a look that also said everything without saying one word.

"Besides that," I said and folded my arms in defiance.

"I can take care of it for you," Constantine stated and rose from his chair to head towards his closet. "Getting rid of the demon, that is."

"You would?" I asked. "How much would it cost? I don't exactly have that much."

The dark-haired man turned around and offered me a smile that was kind of sweet actually. "It's on the house. Consider it done for karma."

"Oh," I said. I never held much confidence in karma. To me, bad things tended to happen to you the more you tried to be a good person. Like it made the Devil angry, or something, so he sent evil circumstances your way to try to make you think twice about doing it again and prevent you from being a decent human being and making his enemy happy. 

Probably why I woke up that night to find a demon trying to rape me, I had thought ruefully.

* * *

Taking me home, John Constantine offered me his coat. It didn't quite fit but his shoes did and I clomped along by his side on the way back to my apartment. We started to make small talk.

"So, not to pry, but why are you still a virgin?" he asked, prying.

I could blame it on my weight but that wasn't true. I have had a few guys like me besides my butterball physique. So instead I gave him the truth. "Well I'm avoidant and shy to begin with but mostly it's because I'm demisexual," I answered. "I don't want to sleep with every hot guy I see. I want to be in love first. And I want the guy to love me _back_ ; the figure 8: giving and receiving."

"Nice concept," he replied and I couldn't tell if he was being sarcastic or sincere.

Finally back at my apartment, and grateful because I was tired by that time of people looking at my feet, Constantine gave me a very specific instruction: go to bed and fall asleep.

"I'm an insomniac," I confessed.

"I can wait," he stated, going behind me, taking his coat back and pushing me gently forward.

Back in my bedroom, I bent over on my bed, checking my sheets first for any demon gunk. Turning around quickly to look at the exorcist, whom had chosen to sit down on a chair next to the bed, I found him checking out my ass. At least, that's what I thought he was doing. When I caught him, he looked embarrassed, his white cheeks, turning bright red. Mine turned a similar shade as I slipped underneath the covers, hiding my plump rear end from his view.

Even though I had kind of liked John Constantine looking at it.

"Know any lullabies?" I asked as I flipped onto my side to look at him.

"Yeah," he said, leaning forward and adding flatly "Go to sleep."

I stared at him for a moment, suddenly feeling very tired and safe that he was there. "Do you have a girlfriend?"

"No," Constantine answered. "You're avoidant...I'm kind of like that too...or antisocial; take your pick."

I smiled at him. "We make quite a pair."

He smiled and looked to the side and then back at me. "Just try to fall asleep _okay_?"

Maybe it was because I was so tired or maybe it was because I didn't want to let him down, but soon after I shut my eyes, I did just what the exorcist asked me to do.

* * *

Later (how much later I wasn't sure) I woke up and felt that same pressure as before. There was a hand gripped around my throat and I saw the Incubus on me, his horrid and grinning face so close to mine, I would have felt his breath if he had any. I went to scream but the thing squeezed tighter, stopping any sound from coming out. When I tried to push it off of me, I found that I couldn't move my hands or legs. My eyes darting to each limb I found that the demon was not alone. He had brought four of his friends and they were laughing as they held me down.

My eyes going to the chair by the side of the bed, I saw that it was now empty.

John Constantine was nowhere to be seen.


	2. Waking Up to a Nightmare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Constantine and I find ourselves needing to escape from a tricky situation.

Waking up to have one demon about to sexually assault you is one thing. Waking up and having four hold you down, while the leader sits on top of you with his organ ready and frighteningly mammoth resting on your stomach, brings matters to a whole other level of terror. The absence of your supposed hero also does little to offer any comfort.

Frantically, my eyes had taken one more sweep of the room only to find my first assumption that John Constantine was no longer there both thankfully and distressingly erroneous. The exorcist had not left me after all. As it turned out, he was on the floor being restrained by another demon. The incubi had him on my bedroom floor, a sharp and evil looking dagger against his throat and I saw Constantine's eyes meet mine. There was protective regret in them but also a resolve that seemed to whisper to me that he may be down but he was not out for the count just yet.

Feeling liquid on my stomach, I quickly looked back to find the Incubus on top of me, dripping its black seed on to my clothed belly and making me want to do nothing more than vomit.

Which I had proceeded to do on the front of my purple nightie, making it in dire need of a date with some Tide laundry detergent.

Unfortunately, for me, all this had succeeded in doing was making the hell beast that was holding my right arm down rather exited. Claws dug into the skin on my arm and blood soon seeped out, making it also squirm in more pleasure.

The thing placed one of its taloned fingers into my mouth , slipping it in easily due to the vomit still on my lips. I gagged even further as the demon's finger proceeded in exploring the orifice around a bit more. Its skin tasted of rancid milk and rotten wet cat food.

The Incubus turned to its companion, still perched on top of me and addressed it in a surprisingly prim British accented voice. "Now, you did say I get her mouth, didn't you?"

I suddenly heard a low hiss coming from my other arm as that Incubus was not pleased by the sudden announcement. "IIIII was to get her mouuuuthhhh," it hissed in rage.

I felt the other demons at my feet, breaking my flesh with their sharp fingers, as they too had joined in on the argument. Apparently there was some confusion in regards to which hell beast got dibs on which hole and they had finally done the math and figured out that there wasn't enough to go around. Even the Incubus on the floor, the one restraining Constantine, was suddenly upset by the realization that at least half of the revelers were about to be disappointed once the party actually started.

This unexpected debate, while disturbing me beyond the capacity for clear thinking, provided John Constantine with a moment to escape his own prison. As the demon on top of him turned it's not so pretty head to hurl insults at its companions, the exorcist spat the by now flavorless ball of gum from out of his mouth. It hit the Incubus straight in its beady little eye and caused the damned thing to loosen the hold it had on its captive. John threw the creature off from him, grabbing its own weapon and proceeding to push the dagger through the Virginitas Incubus' heart, which was apparently located where all of us humans usually locate our livers. A gush of fluid almost the same color as the Incubi's seed, sprayed out, hitting John Constantine, whom remained amazingly unfazed, straight in his handsome and indifferent face.

While the Incubi surrounding me momentarily centered their attention away and towards their fallen comrade, I bit down hard on the demon's finger which was still deep inside of my mouth. It screamed loudly as my teeth entered its crimson skin and I wanted to wretch as I tasted the foul liquid that I took as its blood fill my mouth. There wasn't time to be properly disgusted however. Constantine was rushing towards me, stabbing the demons at my feet with agile speed with the demonic dagger still bloody and clutched in his hand. My own left hand now free, I used it to punch the leader of the Incubi on his half turned jaw as John pushed him over on to the remaining monster.

Leaping from off of my bed, I was by the man's side in a heartbeat. Constantine placed a hand on each of my shoulders and we bounded out of the room: the exorcist for the first time and myself for the second. "Nice punch," he complimented as we reached the bottom of my apartment building's stairs.

"Thanks," I returned as I followed him out the door and into the Los Angeles streets. The sky was lightening above us: the demon hunter and his chubby and still half-decent new client.

* * *

Back at his own apartment, Constantine seemed pissed off. I could tell by the way that he had slammed the door shut behind us and was muttering under his breath. I didn't want to worsen his mood but couldn't help but inquire why he was so angry. I had been the one nearly attacked but we had escaped with our lives, at least. I was left wondering if it was a pride deal; that maybe he was a tad more upset because he had been overpowered briefly by one of the Virginitas Incubi in front of me.

"They had you outnumbered," I shyly tried to comfort him as he slammed both hands down on the table we had sat at only three hours ago, following our initial meeting. 

"That's the problem," he replied testily. "There should have only been one of the damn things!"

My worry was increasing from his own enraged agitation. I saw him reach into his pocket and then curse as he pulled out a now empty pack of gum. "I could really go for a cigarette," he muttered with the irritation and need that only recovering addicts could produce.

"Is...is that a problem?" I asked, wishing I had a piece of gum to give to him but knowing my nightie was woefully without pockets. "That there's more than one?"

John Constantine looked at me with concern and returned both of his hands to rest palm down on the table. "The head Incubi, the one that found you first...he must have bragged about it to his friends."

"Like a group of teenage high school footballers?" I asked.

The exorcist nodded. "Incubi have as big of mouths as they do cocks and balls. It probably couldn't help itself. The leader demanded the rights for...for your..." Constantine couldn't actually bring himself to say the word "hymen" and I suddenly found it very appealing and adorable the way that he couldn't meet my eyes. And also how his cheeks were turning bright red from becoming unexpectedly bashful. He pushed forward, however, past his embarrassment. "The others came along for the ride, though, because a virgin is still a virgin. And, as I said before, virginity is in short supply these days; in short supply but in high demand amongst Virginiti. They are probably starving and willing to take whatever you could offer for the first time."

"I didn't offer anything!" I groaned, holding myself, my arms unfortunately brushing against the vomit and demon stuff on my spoiled nightie.

John looked at me again. "I _know_. The problem is now that we're not just facing one Incubi anymore but several. By tomorrow night, they will probably have told every Virginitas in the city. One I can face...Six maybe...but an army of them? That may prove incredibly difficult."

I held myself a little tighter, trying to ignore the mixture of fluid now painting itself on my exposed skin. The moment I had left my apartment the first thing I had planned on doing was taking a bath. Now other matters seemed more important and getting cleaned and changed would have to take a backseat to solving them.

"What am I supposed to do?" I asked plaintively, dreadfully frightened at the thought of a whole legion of those things casting lots to see whom got what part of my anatomy first.

"There's one very simple solution for you, Miss Smyth," John Constantine said, lifting his head and fixing me with those serious and dark eyes of his. "You have to _lose_ your virginity."


	3. Spending the Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Constantine decides to let me stay at his place as he figures out what to do.

"Pardon me?" I asked my rather forward new acquaintance.

I had heard him perfectly, of course. My hearing, while sometimes faulty, latched on to every single word this time and heard it crystal clear. The apartment where we had been standing was quiet except for the occasional passing car outside and the low hum of the refrigerator. I had heard him.

I just hadn't wanted to.

"If you don't want to be raped and feasted upon by the Virginitas Incubi, which will definitely lead to your death, I highly recommend you lose your virginity," he explained further. "If you are no longer a virgin than you no longer have any use to them."

My mouth dropped open before I bit my bottom lip to keep it from happening again.

Constantine stood up straight, his brown eyes still on me. "Go and find a nice guy."

"I don't want a nice guy! I want someone that I love and who loves me back!" I wailed desperately and then felt embarrassed by the way I had phrased my rebuttal. "Well I hope he is nice but well...you know..."

"If it's a religious hang-up," the demon hunter said with a small smile, "I'm sure God would understand."

"It's not a religious hang-up," I remarked. "It's a _me_ hang-up. I believe in sex as meaning something more than just a series of entering, twitches and spurts of the body. Although even then it can create a life...what's more beautiful and special than that? I want there to be love, real love when I lose my virginity. I'm not about to sell my morals out because a handful Incubi are after me, Mr. Constantine."

"Try hundreds," John Constantine corrected with a somber look. "Because that is what you will be facing."

I ran a hand through my long, brown hair and the sorrow and worry that flashed across my face must have been as easy for the exorcist to read as a "Peanuts" comic strip. He left his side of the table and came to stand in front of me. Placing a hand on each of my fleshy upper arms he urged me to sit down and he proceeded to squat down in front of me so that he could look up into my face. I couldn't meet his eyes but looked at my hands folded on my almost non-existent lap.

"Look," he stated. "I will try everything I can think of but I'm worried that I won't be able to protect you. That's the only reason why I even suggested it. I really don't want to see you hurt, Erin."

It was the first time he had used my Christian name and I looked up only to meet his eyes and see how truly concerned he did look.

"You can stay here while I try to work it out," he offered. "It's more safeguarded and they know of me at least...my reputation so that will make them hesitate."

It occurred to me that he was bragging a bit. I didn't care though. I was so happy, I threw my chubby arms around his shoulders and hugged him, getting Incubi precum and my own vomit onto John Constantine's black tie and white shirt.

He looked down at it after I had let him go and then at where the stain had originated from.

"We've got to get you changed," he commented.

* * *

The box which John brought into the room was large and overflowing with items too many for its cardboard frame to hold. I saw something that looked like a Priest's robe peeking out of it. I also saw the top of a flask. Placing the box on the table, Constantine started to unburden it from its overflowing contents.

"This belonged to a friend of mine," he informed, seeing my curiosity. "A Father Hennesey...Know him?"

I shook my head. "I'm Protestant. Although I have my fair share of Catholic guilt."

He smiled wryly, obviously skeptical about what a virgin could feel guilty about, as he continued unloading the contents, separating the clothing from the various odds and ends. "Hennessy had a drinking problem. When he died the Church gave me his stuff. I keep meaning to give it to the Goodwill, like they should have, but I haven't been able to."

I could tell that he hadn't done it yet because by keeping the box of his dead friend's possessions he could keep the man somehow close by.

"When my mom d-died," I said, faltering. "I could never completely change her room. I left the pictures she had placed around her bed up. Then I could think of her hanging them there and not feel like she was gone so much. Her room was like your box."

Nodding, Constantine peered into the treasure trove. "I have another one with stuff from a man named Beeman..."

I was about to inquire about the interesting and unusual name, and also ask the demon hunter about just how many of his friends had died, when I saw his expression change as if he had thought of something.

"What is it?" I asked.

"I was just thinking that Beeman may have some information at his former hang-out. I'll go there tomorrow."

Watching as the man next to me finished sorting things out, I touched the mountain of fabric.

"I can wear any of these?" I asked, grateful Hennesey had been a large fellow.

Shoving the pile of clothing further in my direction, Constantine stated, "Take your pick."

I rifled through them. Not wanting to choose the robe, I decided on a plain white t-shirt and pair of boxers.

"I'll show you the bathroom," the tall man announced. "There's a tub. Take a bath."

I looked up at him, the corner of my mouth rising. "What? You aren't going to help me like you did with Angela? Should I leave my clothes on?"

John Constantine smirked. "And here I thought she was the type who didn't bathe and tell."

* * *

As I sat in the bathtub I used more soap than I ever had before in my whole life. It felt like it was not enough even after I had caked it practically over my whole body. I had so much on I resembled a mime. By the time, I was finished, Constantine's bar of soap was a pathetic sliver. He could probably only get one more washing out of the shriveled thing. That was when I realized that I was sitting in a tub where the exorcist had often sat.

Naked.

I started to blush, a shade which deepened as I realized I'd been using his own soap as well. Suddenly naughty, yet not unpleasant thoughts swirled around my head of Constantine rubbing the soap all over his body. Then I imagined being in the tub while John was in there also. I was not thin and would be embarrassed by letting him see all of me.

Still, I was getting turned on by all my fantasies, making me think a cold shower would probably have been more appropriate.

"Are you okay in there?" I heard the man suddenly ask from the other side of the door and I jumped about a foot up in the air from the porcelain under my ass.

"Ummm...yeah fine," I replied. "I'm almost done."

"Good," John stated testily. "I want to go to bed."

There was silence for a moment before the man tried to explain his statement, realizing it could be taken the wrong way.

"I mean, I can't until you get out of the tub...I..."

"I understand," I called out. "It was on my nightie, after all."

"I tossed it out," John Constantine informed. "Was that okay?"

"Please. I never want to see it again."

When no reply came, I rinsed off the soap in a hurry and stepped out of the bathtub carefully, trying not to slip. It would be humiliating to escape a group of violent Incubi only to die from a common household accident. Not to mention the fact that Constantine having to break into the room to discover me lying flat on the floor in my birthday suit was traumatizing in itself. I would possibly die from that alone and didn't want him to mistake my fallen form for a beached Beluga.

Drying off, I thanked God for keeping both of my feet on the tiles of the bathroom floor and quickly got changed. When I exited the room, I found John back at the kitchen table. Apparently he had located a fresh pack of gum because he was chewing away in agitation. I wondered if he was uncomfortable for some reason. Coughing to garner his attention, Constantine looked at me quickly and then averted his eyes.

"I'll show you your room," he announced as he stood and walked past me.

He avoided getting too close and I suddenly felt as if he was uncomfortable because of me.

The bedroom was small and appeared to have been unused for some time. Turning on the light, he grumbled as he saw that he had left several weapons on the bed.

"Demon hunting equipment?" I asked.

"Yes."

"How many of those things have you used before?" another question born out of curiosity.

He had fixed me with an intense stare from pensive eyes. "I have used every single one ever made at least once."

It was a horrifying statement. If John Constantine had had the opportunity to use as many as he had just claimed, it left me wondering how many demons there were in the world besides my own. Suddenly Constantine looked almost more weary than I felt. I knew that his fatigue wasn't brought on by lack of sleep however. The demon hunter was exhausted from fighting a war without hardly anybody there by his side. Especially with an ever growing list of dead comrades. Constantine was virtually alone and that could not have been easy for him.

With newfound resolve to aid this man in his friends' absence, I boldly proclaimed that when he visited this Beeman's old haunt I would join him.

"I don't think so," he stated flatly.

I smiled at him despite the displeasure my announcement had caused him. "What type of exorcist would you be if you left your client all by her helpless self?"

Constantine sighed, knowing that I had made a point of some sort. "Get into bed and try to get some sleep. The more rest you get now means the longer you can stay awake in the long run."

"Is that important?" I inquired unnerved by the ominous suggestion.

"It may be."

I climbed into bed, following my exorcist's orders. He was halfway out the door when I called him back, peering at him from beneath a brown blanket.

"When I saw you on the floor with that knife at your throat," I started to say my voice quivering. "I wasn't just worried for myself...I didn't want anything bad to happen to you, John."

Constantine looked taken back by my confession. The man seemed both touched and once more a little awkward. Looking as if he were in a hurry to get out of there he bid me that famous nighttime farewell but with my name included again, "Goodnight Erin."

"Goodnight John Boy," I returned, not being able to resist.

Constantine couldn't help himself from letting himself smile at that. "Get some sleep," he ordered as he turned off the lights and returned to the hallway, presumably on his way to his own bedroom.

I listened to the sound of his shoes hitting the floor as he walked away. They sounded in a hurry also. I then closed my eyes and fell asleep, wearing a shirt belonging to a dead and mourned for Priest and thinking of John Constantine's kindness and not the merciless lust of demons still looking for me.


	4. Bowled Over

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I try to distract John Constantine from his worried mind when he fails finding any answers to my problem at the Beeman's former residence.

It turned out that the Beeman lived above a bowling alley. Or, well...at least, he _used_ to live above a bowling alley. On the way over to the place the following day, Constantine filled me in on what exactly had happened that had successfully wiped out a good percentage of his friends. 

We were walking side by side down the sunny Los Angeles streets, me in some more of Father Hennessy's attire and John Constantine in his usual black suit. Anybody that we passed looked at us with curiosity and a little contempt or confusion in their eyes. I could tell they marked us as an extremely odd couple and wondered what John was doing with a fat girl like myself; one with horrible fashion sense on top of it all. They seemed to think I was too lucky and he was too far out of his mind.

I was grateful that my friend didn't seem to give a damn. Maybe having seen such terrible things as demons and monsters he could handle a few judgemental stares, whispers and pointed fingers.

"Are you familiar with your angels?" he asked me suddenly. "A good Christian girl like you would be I suspect."

"Errr...yeah," I replied. I was kind of embarrassed to admit that while I was familiar with the top ones some of the less popular ones were like the non-released ABBA songs I'd hear on their albums like "Arrival" or "Voulez Vouz:" it didn't make them not as good I just hadn't heard on them before.

I hurried to catch up to the exorcist, having fallen a few steps behind.

"Know of one that went by the name Gabriel?" he inquired further.

"Yeah I heard of him...it," I hastily corrected.

"About two years back, old Gabriel got a little jealous in its love for its Maker. Decided that humans were unworthy of God's love. Decided to do a little cleasing and bring the Devil's son into the world."

"The Devil had a son?" I asked shocked at this unexpected birth announcement.

"Yes. In the process of bring him here, Gabriel killed some very good friends of mine: Hennessy, Beeman and a taxi driver named Chas Kramer." 

"I'm so sorry," I stated.

John Constantine looked down into my face as I kept my pace beside him. I guess, he wasn't used to sympathy because he looked both grateful and a little bashful.

"Thanks," he said and quickly turned to look to his left at a cigarette store. Turning his head equally as fast away from the sight, he turned to look at the street ahead of us instead. "That's how I met Angela. They had initially wanted to use her twin sister, Isabel, to birth the bastard. When she killed herself to prevent it, they chose our friendly neighbourhood police woman instead. Luckily dear old dad didn't like his son's planned extracurricular activity and stopped it. God tossed Gabriel out of his kingdom and the earth got a reprieve from destruction and got to continue in its sad and miserable way."

Right then a guy passing by, his hair dyed bright red and wearing a black leather jacket, bumped into me on what seemed very much like purpose. Something about the colors and the forceful contact reminded me of the Virginitas Incubi and my mind flashed back to my near rape and death at their talon clawed hands. Without knowing I was doing it, I went to John Constantine's side and took his hand for comfort and protection. He looked down at me in that strange mixture of embarrassment and affection but let my pudgy hand stay clasped around his own one.

"Here it is," the exorcist announced outside of the Bowling Alley and gently breaking free of my grip.

"It says it's closed," I frowned peering into the dark interior through the slightly dirty glass.

"I have a key," John reassured pulling one out of his pocket.

For one dirty little second my mind thought of the demon winter's _other_ key hidden inside of his pants and I blushed and tried to push the thought away. It was a leftover one from sitting in his tub and scrubbing myself with his damn piddly bar of soap, I tried to convince myself.

"Here," Constantine said, staring at me in the now open doorway; a new look of perplexion was on his face over the question of why I was still peering into the Bowling Alley window, my face the color of a hothouse tomato, instead of entering the building with him.

I straightened up, coughed and brushed past the exorcist, trying to pretend that I hadn't just brushed against him.

In the Bowling Alley, John led me to the Beeman's extensive collection of files and artifacts hidden away in a secret place inside of the building. I tried not to break anything as John went through the books, trying to find a solution to my situation. I noticed with great sadness the thick layer of dirt which covered everything, realizing how long the place had been without its former tenant and how long Constantine had been without his friend.

I watched the man carefully going through all the files and relevant material, that common pensive expression on his handsome face and I felt deep compassion and fondness for this decent human that basically kept his sorrows to himself along with his loneliness. My heart went out to John Constantine and as it did a glowing warmth pulsed throughout my body, starting at my heart itself.

"Damn!" John cursed as he slammed the book in his hands closed shut, sending up a cloud of dust which resembled a mini sandstorm from off of its pages.

"Nothing good I take it?" I stated almost apologetically.

"They all say the same thing I told you, Erin: you want to stay alive lose your virginity."

I bit my lip as Constantine ran a trembling hand through his black hair. He went for another piece of gum but his pack was empty again. He tossed the empty pack onto a pile of archaic encyclopedias and sighed. I suddenly felt worse for my friend then I did for myself and felt an overpowering urge to cheer him up. What he needed was a distraction and I thought I had found the perfect one. Walking towards John Constantine where he sat in a chair, I leaned forward until we were on eye level.

"Do you bowl?" I asked, my green eyes meeting his brown ones.

He looked at me with incredulity. "What?"

* * *

Thirty minutes later we were down in the Bowling Alley. Constantine had watched in skeptical disbelief as I had tried to get the facility up and running. He looked half displeased when I had succeeded and we started to play. The demon hunter tackled the game initially with disinterest. However, the longer we did it, the more he seemed to be enjoying himself in spite of his reticence. After he had returned to his seat having hit a spare, his suit's jacket lying beside him and his tie loosened, I looked at him with that same feeling I had previously felt, only this time it was conjured by the almost boyish grin on his usually sullen face.

"So are you and Angela..." I asked shyly. "Do you two...have a thing for each other?"

I didn't want to hear the answer really but I felt I needed to hear it so I could save my heart from future trouble.

"She wants to but I don't feel that way about her. We're friends. Just friends," he replied, his gaze at first staying down the lane and then turning to me.

"Is it because you already have someone?"

He laughed cynically, returning his gaze to where it previously had rested. "No. She's just not my type. Actually I try to avoid emotional attachments. I've seen demons since I was young. My job is dangerous; it wouldn't make sense to endanger somebody. I've kind of sworn off entanglements. It's just better that way."

While I was grateful in a selfish way that Constantine was single I also felt disappointed that he really didn't seem interested in falling in love or any similar sentiment. 

I rose from my seat and grabbed one of the balls. I sent it down the lane but it ended up in the gutter, my mind too preoccupied with John Constantine's confession that he had vowed not to become involved with anybody.

When I spun around, however, I discovered that the lone wolf might have abandoned thoughts of romance but his thoughts were still far from pure: he had obviously been staring at my full rear end again. He tried to disguise it by swiftly looking down at the sheet before him and marking the score, or lack of one, but where his gaze had been resting appreciatively was unmistakable. Feeling very happy and seeing an opportunity to make John a little less somber, I strolled over to him. Sitting down, I stared at his lowered face. "So did you like what you saw?"

He refused to look up from the sheet, seemed to make a mistake in his flustered shame and then scribbled over it, hurriedly trying to fix whatever it was. I yanked the pencil out of his hand. "I have a proposition for you, John Constantine."

He raised his head finally and I saw that his pale cheeks were burning bright red.

Tremendously giddy, I continued, "The next person to get a strike gets to watch the loser roll the ball sans pants."

I tried to look at him in mock sexiness. His lip twitched at this prospected wager. "Are you serious?" he inquired.

"I never joke when it comes to a game of strip bowling," I said. I didn't mention the fact that this was the first time I had ever actually played it.

He looked at me, a smile dancing around his lips before he looked at all the pins still standing after my last failed attempt. He turned back to me and brazenly smiled, already confident in his victory. "Sure."

* * *

"I'm sorry!" I called out to Constantine as he held the ball and prepared to send it down the lane.

The exorcist was in his dress shirt and tie but that was about it besides his socks and bowling shoes. He wouldn't look at me as he threw the bowling ball towards the pins but as he bent over his shirt at the back lifted and I saw that he was the Commando type of guy.

As the ball knocked down all twelve targets, I heard the man mumble the words, "A little too late."

He turned to face me and I avoided looking below his waist incase I saw two other types of balls peeking out or anything else. "Sure you are," he said to me doubtfully as he placed his hands on his waist.

"Hey, John Constantine," I said. "You've got a very cute ass."

I couldn't find the strength to resist the lascivious compliment and besides it was true.

"And you've got a very smart one," he said with a somewhat amused smirk.

" _Not quite_ ," I thought to myself.

Right then, I knew, beyond a doubt, that I had foolishly fallen in love with John Constantine. But he had just practically admitted to me that he would never allow himself to fall in love. There I was needing to lose my virginity or else I would wind up ravaged and destroyed by a group of starving demons. However, the only man I _wanted_ to give it to was not about to take it from me.

I was screwed.

Figuratively anyway.


	5. A Deflowering Most Undesirable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Constantine and I turn to Papa Midnite for answers but learn of how the horror of my situation will impact the exorcist if he chooses to stay and try to help me.

The Midnight Club was dark, red, terrifying and evil. It was also the next place that John Constantine brought me to after our game of strip bowling and his failure at the Beeman's to find answers on how to destroy the Virginitas Incubi. 

"Just try not to look at anything," he had told me. "And stay close."

Close, to me, after not following his first piece of advice following entrance to the club, involved clasping on to the exorcist's arm and burying my face into the back of his sleeve. For his part, John didn't seem to mind the scared butterball holding on to him but casually and carefully made his way to the back of the club. I heard the loud beat of music around us just like I smelled the strong and unmistakable scent of blood that scented the place like the most in poor taste air freshener in the world. People were being consumed in the Midnight Club. That much I had gathered and I knew Constantine must have been pretty desperate to have brought me here instead of dropping me off at his apartment first.

At a door at the rear end of the den of debauchery, John knocked and was let in to a more lighter room.

"You can look now," my friend, at last, gave permission. 

What greeted my eyes, which had to get gradually used to the light after the night sky outside and the darkness of the club, seemed to be an office of some sort. It wasn't very formal but was spacious and a heck of a lot more messy. It was also tremendously better than the snake pit we had just successfully traversed.

Sitting at a small table in the room was an imposing black man. His vibe spoke of New Orleans: a suit that spoke of confident swagger with a perfect tilted hat on top of his head. That same head possessed an interesting face I could see once he had turned it in our direction.

"What can I do for you and your lady friend, John Constantine?" the man asked in a voice I found myself liking for its deepness and accent even if I didn't know, as of yet, if its owner was any damn good.

"We need your help, Midnite," John stated. 

"Well I know you already," Midnite stated and cast his eyes on me. "Shouldn't I know the other half of your 'we' before we talk information?"

Constantine appeared upset that he was being forced to introduce me to the stranger but he did without much verbal complaint and I discovered that the man John had brought us here to talk to was the horrible club's owner. Papa Midnite subsequently discovered my name also.

Only after he had invited us to sit at his table did he learn the reason for Constantine's visit. The exorcist gave most of the story to the black man in more detail than I felt completely comfortable with sitting there on display.

"So you are a virgin?" my new acquaintance asked and I blushed at hearing it said outloud again. It had been embarrassing just having to hear it repeatedly as John had recounted the events of last night.

"We already established that," Constantine smirked.

"My advice: just go and lose it then," Papa Midnite suggested. "Have some fun, my pretty big girl."

"She doesn't want to do that, as I already said," John rebuffed the idea. "We were hoping you could help us."

Midnite fixed me with a searching and condescending stare. "What is more important? Your virtue or your life?"

"If I compromise one for the other is my life worth anything?" I asked. I couldn't tell the man that things had become even more complicated since I had fallen in love with Constantine. But knew he would never _willingly_ love me back.

Papa Midnite sat back in his chair and laughed in amusement. "You are very pure I take it...the Virginitas will love that...they won't let you go so easily with such an attitude."

Addressing John again, the club host acted as if I wasn't even there. "If she doesn't sleep she shall be fine, but how long will that last? And do you think the Virginitas won't find out ways around that little loophole? They are starving, fading away, and have found one of their few last hopes. They will move Heaven and Earth to get to her Constantine."

"She's staying with me," John answered. "My place is protected."

Midnight cooed. "For how long?"

I worried, seeing Constantine's lack of a response. "You have nothing to offer?" the exorcist finally asked. "No information that could help me help her?"

"Only this: You don't understand how bad it is," Papa Midnight crooned. "You come from an age where there aren't many virgins left so you don't know what the whole truth behind how bad it will be is. I've been around since a woman keeping her maidenhood was in fashion. You've never seen what they're truly like, John, when they finally catch their prey. All you know is what you've read in your books and from past tales that have been so watered down that they don't come _anywhere_ near the truth. I witnessed the Virginitas in action..."

From his tone of voice and the humourless frown on his full lips, I could tell that what he was about to say would hardly be comforting. There was also a smug little twinkle in his dark eyes that seemed to suggest that this Papa Midnite, whatever he really was, had had some fun, or at least, a good laugh, at the Incubi's behavior in the past. I turned to John who wouldn't look at me but kept his eyes fixed on the club owner.

"They don't just rape a woman...they desecrate everything about her. You've seen that thing they have between their legs, sweet one?" Midnite addressed me.

I nodded, frightened by what he was going to say.

"It's too very large, huh and ugly? That is nothing compared to what it becomes when it is inside of you. They got razors and spikes that come out when they sense they are your first. And those things will be shooting out all throughout you as they start to defile you. And you will be there praying for sweet death but you can't do a thing about it because that stuff, that tar precome of theirs, is designed to make sure that you keep breathing as they keep right on fucking."

"That's enough Midnite," Constantine said. I looked to him again. He looked angry. However I thought I could see something underneath his anger that seemed too close to my own terror.

"Why? She's got to be knowing the truth?" the man retaliated calmly. "She needs to know the worst of what can happen and start to really ask herself if her morals, beliefs and that little old layer between her legs is really worth it?"

John exhaled sharply through his nose and his gaze lowered to the table as Papa Midnite continued.

"And while it is in there enjoying your cunt, another Virginitas will come sliding up to see what other hole is worth having. Your mouth, or your ass and it'll go inside of whichever it fancies more and the same thing happens with its organ this time shoved deep inside of you. And then another will..."

"She gets the picture," my companion stated harshly.

Midnite made a motion with his hand that might as well have meant "If you say so," before resuming.

"When the initial Incubus pulls out he keeps his spikes extended and it will tear you apart from the inside out. The same with the others. And you will lie there on the ground feeling every cut and tear they made in your pretty organs, sweet one, because their seed is making sure that you stay alive to do just that. And as you lie there dying, and in so much pain you will be wishing you were dead but you can't be dying, the other Incubi will come and have their turns with you. Oh they can't feed anymore because you won't be pure but that won't stop them or their friends from trying because they are hungry and they don't know any damn better.

"And you'll have to suffer it all over again until the last one has their go at you and its seed finally dries in what is left of your poor mangled body. Then you start to finally die and you will welcome death because you have suffered what feels like an eternity of Hell. All of this depends on how many Virginitas Incubi there are...and from what I hear there are plenty out there and they know where you be girl."

I swallowed and looked down at my hands at the unexpected revelation that Midnite had always known from the beginning my story and why we had come to him.

"She has me to protect her," John Constantine stated with confidence but it only won a laugh from his acquaintance.

"Poor John Constantine," Midnite said in sympathy. "You still don't know anything of Virginitas."

He tutted and clucked at the exorcist's ignorance regarding the demons.

"Enlighten me," Constantine instructed wryly.

Papa Midnite leaned forward in his chair. He looked at my friend with something close to compassion and that perhaps was the most disturbing fact of all. "Virginitas Incubi are corrupters. They have their fun with the ladies but they enjoy spreading their evil to human _men_ as well. The longer you stay anywhere near their presence the more they will taint you with their lust. You'll be aroused most of the frigging time, Constantine, until you'll want to tear into her too. You'll be in actual physical pain the longer you try to fight it."

The man beside me looked down at the table, his face turned paler if that was possible and he looked as if he wanted to squirm as he started to clench and unclench his fist.

"Why do you think they didn't kill you that first time in her bedroom?" the Midnight Club's owner asked. "They wanted you to watch and be turned on by the whole show. And you would have been, no matter, how hard you tried to resist being so. They'll do that if they catch her...force you to watch. But by that time you will be so aroused you'll still just be ready to kill them not because they will be hurting her but because they got to her first and you wanted in on the fun."

John shivered and Midnite looked so arrogantly sympathetic.

"Humans are such impressionable and easy to corrupt things," the black man pitied.

And I knew that the worst of it was that what he had said was true.

"And when they've finished with her they will free you and you'll have what's left of this girl; be it alive or dead," Midnite continued. "You'll be crazed with your lust and unable to stop yourself. But when it's all over you will _know_ what you did and you'll be more than willing to kill yourself so the memory and knowledge won't haunt you anymore. Knowing what it took to save your soul from Hell the last time, do you really want that again, John?"

I had no idea what the other man was referring to but I saw how badly that last part had effected John Constantine. His eyes looked like they belonged more on a helpless creature in the path of oncoming traffic than the assured and cocky man I had fallen in love with. He wasn't just clenching his fist now but was digging his nails into the palm of it. I could see blood making trails on his skin like the red paint on white paper blown with straws my teacher had the class do in art. I reached across the table and took John's hand with both of my own, trying to prevent him from hurting himself any more. He looked down into my eyes and the strangest look passed between us, for it was both thrilling and terrifying.

* * *

"I'll just go," I said once we were outside of Papa Midnite's office. "It was wrong to drag you into this."

I started to walk away but John Constantine grabbed my wrist, stopping me.

"We can handle this, Erin," he stated as I turned to face him.

I was about to tell him that it was my problem, not his and that "we" was a business concept that shouldn't have happened since it would only get him hurt when a group of the Midnight Club's revelers surrounded us, stopping my words dead.

The leader of the gang seemed to be a huge, man wearing sunglasses and having swept his white hair all to the left side of his spider-webbed tattooed head.

John let go of my wrist and stood up to his full height, which albeit was hardly short, was nowhere close to the seven foot tall giant before him. "Do you mind? This is a private conversation," the exorcist asked.

"You're Constantine?" the stranger asked.

"Yeah," John replied.

"She the virgin?" the towering club patron asked and I knew it could not be good that he knew of my sex life or lack thereof.

My companion didn't answer but moved closer towards me and grabbed my hand.

"The Incubi promised to pay us if we would bring her to them," the mercenary grinned. "You're kind of just in the way, though."

John turned to look at me and then at the group surrounding us. "Is that so?" he asked, facing the giant.

He didn't wait for a reply, however. Constantine's fist hit the merc's jaw before his last word was even out. He then grabbed my chubby body and pushed me in the direction of the only weak spot in the circle of six that had cornered us. "GO!" he screamed and I ran.

When one of the group tried to grab me, I swiftly brought my knee up forcefully into his groin, causing the mohawked sporting creep to grab his nuts instead of me. I heard John close behind me. Hands suddenly grasped my shoulders and I looked up to see what Constantine had spotted before I had: another member of the gang was blocking the corridor ahead of us. Behind me, Constantine pulled me backwards towards a doorway we had previously passed and dragged us both inside. To both our horror we discovered it was only a closet and we were now trapped inside of it.

As John Constantine locked and barricaded the door with some old boxes, a series of loud pounding sounded from it. Hitting a switch on the wall a pathetic light turned on from the ceiling, casting everything in bluish tint, the type they usually use to see bodily fluid on forensic crime shows. There were no weapons in the room or anything else that seemed useful

"What are we going to do?" I asked, running a hand through my long brown hair.

Constantine stared down into my frightened face. I could see the fear in the exorcist's eyes. Wanting to comfort him, I touched the side of his sweat covered face and he jumped from both the touch and a particularly loud bang on the door. Looking to it and then back to me, our faces were suddenly very close. Our bodies were too and we both seemed to become aware of this at the same time. Our breath closed the distance between us, touching the skin on one another and coating it in a thin layer of moisture for the closet suddenly felt too hot and too humid from the heat of the two people inside its small space. There was silence as my question hung uncomfortable and unanswered between us, the man so near to me, his breathing awkward and shallow as I felt suddenly ashamed at how his closeness was exciting me.

I was startled when John Constantine, once again, grabbed my shoulders, this time as he was facing me. "I'm sorry about this, Erin," he apologized as he pushed me down on to the floor, his body over mine as his hand went to his belt and started to undo it.


	6. Closet Encounters of the Intimate Kind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John Constantine takes a more physical stance on solving our now mutual dilemma.

The music was blaring somewhere deep inside of the Midnight Club. I could hear the bass and the drum even if the other instruments and the singing were obscured by distance and the walls of the closet I was locked inside of with John Constantine. He was on top of me, fumbling with his belt as I squirmed underneath him. Everything was still cast in that blueish and eerie light and I could see the look of fear and concentration on his handsome features. He had just heard Midnite describing my death to him in detail along with the promise of what the Virginitas Incubi would do to him, as well.

Or cause him to do more, to be more honest.

Constantine was no rapist. I knew this. But if the choice was my death and his standing by and watching it happen he was willing to become one and earn my hatred rather than feel like he had let me die.

Struggling beneath Constantine, I knew that I loved him even more for his sacrificial decision but I was frightened; losing my virginity inside of a closet in a hellish night club also wasn't something I exactly wanted so I struggled against him, trying to free myself. His free hand went to my shoulder as he used his legs to further restrain me.

"Please John," I whimpered.

"I'm sorry, Erin," he apologized in agony again, seeing my obvious fear. Something passed across his face and then he turned his attention from his belt to a completely new endeavor.

John Constantine lifted the shirt that I was wearing, the one that had once belonged to a priest named Father Hennessy, revealing my big stomach and bra. This last article of clothing he lifted too, exposing my large breasts and I gasped, suddenly more afraid of what he would think of my nakedness and weight than of what was happening. I couldn't bear to see any disgust written on his face and tears started to pool behind my eyes and run from the corners of them and down the sides of my face.

But I didn't need to worry; there was only determination written on the exorcist's face as he started to rub my tummy with one hand and stroke my right breast with the other. His fingers grazed my nipples and I took in another deep breath, this time out of pleasure and not fear. The usually inverted part of me was being called out by his touch and seeing this, John brought his lips to it and sucked all the while as his tongue rolled over the emerging peak as it fully emerged inside of his skillful mouth.

I did not know why he was doing it. Whether he was trying to get an erection in order to have sex with me or if he was trying to make me as wet as possible so that when he was finally ready to enter it would not hurt as much. Constantine knew when he tore into me for the first time it would hurt.

All I knew was that if he was trying to cause supreme arousal he was succeeding very well.

I writhed under him, feeling the work of his tongue and lips coursing straight to my vagina and clit. My legs spread a bit from the throbbing beginning to grow between my legs and I moaned again, being seduced by John Constantine and the pleasure he was bringing to me. I watched in dazed wonder my soon to be lover's face pressed against my usually white breast, turned blue under the odd light, as he ministered to it with his mouth, his right hand grasping, caressing and squeezing my left breast so it would not feel ignored.

When he lifted his head, I thought I saw some other emotion written across his features now and not just fear or determination. His eyes meeting mine, I arched my back, pushing my chest up at him again in offering, missing his touch, and then repeated the action with my crotch, rubbing it against his. I discovered that his cock was no longer sleeping. It was ready and I was now very willing.

Constantine moved his dark head to my other breast and began to play with the nipple there in the same fashion but this time more slower and sensuously. Feeling his erection brushing repeatedly against my clothed thigh, I brought my hands to his hair and ruffled it as he continued his adoration of my chest. After about a minute, I held his head lovingly close to my large chest.

A knocking still came from the door and I absently registered the mercenary shouting, "WE KNOW YOU BOTH ARE IN THERE! YOU'RE FUCKING WELL GONNA GET IT WHEN WE GET YOU! THE INCUBI WILL MAKE YOU PAY FAR MORE THAN YOU CAN EVER IMAGINE, YOU FUCKING PRICK! YOU FUCKING CUNT!"

Their words held no more importance than the indistinct music, which merely sounded like a heart beat to match the one between my spread legs, by that point though. John Constantine and I had started to make love in the darkened closet and the Incubi funded gang outside were nothing more than an intrusion.

Assured hands slipped to my pants, or rather Hennessy's, and John started to pull them off of me as he slid down my plump body, his mouth making a trail of kisses down my torso as he did so. Dipping a finger into my now exposed labia, Constantine smiled as he discovered me wet enough for his liking. Removing his fingers, I saw them coated in my glistening cream and I squirmed again in shy embarrassment. Seeing my shame, Constantine grabbed my brown furred vulva and squeezed it pleasantly as he made a show of boldly and smugly licking my fluid off of his fingers.

I smiled at him more confident. While John Constantine resumed unbuckling his belt, his eyes never leaving me or my body, my eyes went to the bulge I saw there in his pants, suddenly extremely noticeable and I wiggled my ass against the cold tiles of the closet floor. My hole was widening in preparation for what lay momentarily hidden. When John finally lowered his pants and revealed his member, I was grateful for it looked like it would have to take in quite a bit for something so presumably small of a tunnel. The penis was fully erect and weeping, its head swollen and coated with his body's own natural lubricant which dripped deliciously down the shaft. The light cast it in that strange dream like hue but it was clearly a deeper shade, blood having rushed to it and the veins carrying that blood standing out like ropes. Constantine's cock was as beautiful as he was and I lay back and shyly admired it. 

When he lowered his body so it hovered over mine again, neither of us noticed that the pounding on the door had ceased as did the cries. The exorcist's face went to my bosom again which welcomed him and I now felt his naked prick rubbing against my similarly naked thigh at the same time as I felt lips and tongue touch the flesh of my mammary. The prick was painting the skin on my leg with precum and with a sudden shift it turned to painting the skin of my chubby muffin too. John's kisses on my breasts were as delightful as the first time he had planted them there. The lips started to suddenly climb to my throat which I knew was vibrating against them from another moan making its way up to and out of my parted mouth.

His full lips close to my own and his hardened penis almost touching my labia I knew he was one push away from entering me and one motion from kissing me for the first time too. Our tongues were emerging and about to meet each other when the door suddenly flew open.

We turned in unison to look at the idiot that had interrupted us.

Papa Midnite stood in the door's frame, taking in the sight of the naked fat girl and his half-dressed, long time acquaintance on the verge of having sex. Constantine was between my legs, his cock swollen and dripping, poised before my also heavily leaking cunt.

"Well that's one way to handle the matter, John Constantine," the club owner commented as he folded his arms and smiled in bemusement at the two of us.


	7. Devil May Care

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Virginitas Incubi turn to someone with far more power to aid them in their attempt to get at me and corrupt John Constantine in the process.

Papa Midnite was in extremely good humor when John and I were finally decent enough to emerge from the closet. He seemed to be having quite the laugh at catching his friend with his pants literally down and about to screw a fat virgin. I wanted to slug the club owner for the embarrassment I saw written all over Constantine's face but thought since he had saved us it might look ungrateful.

"My people took care of the mercenaries," Papa Midnite revealed. "They'll no longer be granted access to the club."

"Thanks," Constantine said begrudgingly as he finished stuffing his shirt inside of his pants.

"No problem but I wish to warn you, John," Midnite said with his mirth vanishing like a snowflake in the Los Angeles heat. "If the Virginitas turned to a group of outsiders to help them with their problem how long do you think it will take them to pay Lucifer a visit?"

Hearing the name I couldn't help but recognize, my mouth almost dropped open. They couldn't really be talking about thee Lucifer, I reasoned to myself. It had to be somebody in their world that used it as a stage name; kind of like Madonna. Of course, with the things I had been made witness to over the course of a few hours I was not completely convinced.

Constantine looked angry as he looked to the side, avoiding resting his eyes on me, whom was standing behind him.

Papa Midnite placed a hand on each of the exorcist's shoulders. "You know how badly he wants you, John. This would be the perfect opportunity for him. Plus he'd get the chance to torment a good little Christian girl like _her_ in the process. To have you fuck her dead and then to have you kill yourself...Well, the Incubi deal in sleep but that would be enough of a dream come true for Satan, himself."

The club owner's words finally made John glance over his shoulder and me. But I can't say that I was relieved or thankful for it when I had been able to catch the look of terror in his beautiful dark eyes.

* * *

Midnite had one of his workers drive us back to John's apartment in a long black limousine. The trip was filled with uncomfortable silence, with my companion preferring to look out the window than at me. I could tell that he was ashamed now by what he had been willing to do to me in the closet back at the Club and I longed for a little privacy to tell him that he didn't need to feel so bad:

I had wanted him to.

Along with the limo, Midnite had promised to check to see if there was a talisman available for me to wear to keep the Incubi away. Going through life having to constantly wear a clunky necklace around my neck was a price I was willing to pay in order to save my life. And more important to me, John Constantine's sanity as well. The man had warned me, however, that the mercenaries were human and the talisman would not work on them. If they managed to get their greedy little hands on me somehow and remove the darn thing I'd be Incubi bait once more so his advice remained the same: lose my virginity.

My eyes shyly returning to Constantine, who was staring out the window, his arm resting on it and biting the knuckles of the hand by his mouth, I recalled Midnite's warning about Lucifer.

"Lucifer...I take it he was referring to somebody just stealing that infamous name?" I dared to disrupt our uncomfortable silence.

"No. It's the real deal," John answered curtly without so much as glancing at me.

"Oh," I replied and stared at my hands in my almost nonexistent lap.

* * *

The moment we arrived at the apartment John Constantine stormed in ahead of me, tossing his keys on to the kitchen table and offering me a good view of his back. It was a nice back. I quite liked it. But I preffered his face instead.

When he turned around to show it to me once more, I could see the guilt and shame written all over it like the printed headline on the cover of a newspaper.

"Look, Erin, I took things too far in that closet. I was scared and I thought I was keeping you alive."

"I understand," I tried to soothe his obviously frazzled conscience.

"I got carried away," he said, looking at me beseechingly.

"It's okay," I confessed.

I felt I was on the verge of telling him that he could have me right there and then if he wanted to and let the Incubi, Satan and any old talisman go to Hell. I was about to open my mouth to proclaim this happily when John opened his own mouth and stopped my words dead.

"You deserve a good man that loves you, Erin."

My heart stopped and then broke into pieces too small for me to ever put back again. I knew it was Constantine's way of letting me know politely that he was not in love with me.

"Thank you," was all I could think of to mumble.

John looked like he wanted to say more but stopped himself, staring down at the wooden table instead.

Silence settled on us again. I could hear the hum of the fridge and a ticking of a clock and my heart loudly beating although it now felt dead. "Can I still stay here?" I asked, my voice shaking.

"Yes," he replied sincerely. "Of course. It's the safest place for you."

"Thank you," I said for the second time, proceeded by a very loud swallow.

Trying to get my mind off of my sorrow, I asked Constantine a question that had plagued me after Midnite had given his unnerving speech but had been instantly forgotten about following the mercenaries attack and when things had heated up in the closet. I sat down on a chair and asked my protector what Papa Midnite had meant exactly when he had alluded to him having been to Hell and lost his soul once before.

Constantine fixed me with a stare and I could see him weighing in his mind whether or not he should tell me something that obviously was very personal to him. 

"It's okay," I said. "You don't have to."

His look softened and he slowly walked towards me. I looked up at him as he stood in front of me, peering down at me with obvious fondness.

"I've always seen demons and things that were enough to make any sensible person go crazy," he began. "They thought I _was_ crazy...my parents and everybody else. So one day, when I was younger, I tried to kill myself."

My hand reached out and took his own, as I continued to meet his brown eyes.

"I went to Hell but the paramedics brought me back. By God and Satan's rules though I belonged to the Devil. I spent most of my life trying to gain God's favor and save my soul and regain entrance to Heaven. I finally did by sacrificing my life for Angela's and her sister Isabel's salvation. Lucifer was pissed off. He kept me alive and he's been waiting ever since for the moment where I'll slip up again and return to him."

I squeezed the hand held within my own, a hand that revealed Constantine's fear despite the steady and impassive look on his face, for it was trembling.

"And you think he'll get that chance now?" I asked.

"I'd rather die than hurt you, Erin," Constantine confessed.

I didn't know what else to do but throw my arms around his legs, even though my head was against his stomach and embarrassingly near to his crotch. Constantine didn't seem to mind, however. He stroked my hair as I held him with all the tenderness as if he did truly love me, after all.

* * *

Another morning arrived and with it still no more answers. Constantine lost himself in his other cases as he waited in vain for Papa Midnite to contact him. I tried to stay out of the exorcist's way. We were painfully aware of each other now. Having been so close to having sex in that closet we were conscious of one another's bodies in a way we had previously been unaware of.

Well almost unaware of.

Yet it was the strange intimacy that had been created between us that seemed to make us wary of each other. Something existed now whenever we were close to each other, something tangible almost: love on my end for John Constantine and a deep caring on his side for me. We just couldn't completely label it or deal with it now that sex was off limits and we were suddenly too timid to feel comfortable in one another's company. He knew he had hurt me. I knew I could hurt him. It wasn't a very pleasant feeling.

That night, having gone to bed early following an awkward supper of chow mein and chicken balls, I asked myself why I didn't just go out and find some guy to sleep with me. Sure, I was overweight but that hadn't stopped men from being interested. The problem still remained, though, that I wouldn't love them and it wouldn't be right. If I became willing to sacrifice one belief for survival I could never be sure what else I would be willing to do just to keep on living. Nor would I be able to live with myself.

Compromise was often a domino effect: one fall causes another.

I'd seen too many people just similarly fall into relationships so that they wouldn't have to be alone. Or so that they'd have somebody to have sex with when the need arose. They didn't love each other and it was only for a convenience which in the end made them miserable. I could recall the devastation I'd felt when my own mom had confessed that she hadn't been in love with my dad; that her parents were prepared to throw her out of the house so she had married my father instead. It still traumatized me thinking about it. My parents' marriage hadn't been happy but I had always believed that they had, at least, loved each other once. To find out that the belief had been an over romanticized error was heartbreaking. Especially knowing I had been a result of it.

Despite that, however, I still believed in true love and that it was possible. It just didn't happen often.

I wanted to be in love with the man I lost my virginity to and I wanted him to love me back, something John Constantine had already stated twice that he was incapable of doing. Constantine was the man I was in love with, though, and that was the salt on the wound.

I started to cry, knowing that if I stayed I could only return the man to the Hell he had been blessed enough to escape from once already. I couldn't claim to love John, or God for that matter, and risk damning the man I loved to constant torment by remaining by his side. It was better if I left the apartment and John Constantine and let the Virginitas claim me far away from him so he would not have to be corrupted and tormented also.

Climbing out of bed, I walked to the door and peeked outside. Entering the hallway, I could hear John moving about in his bedroom. and cursing. I guessed that he thought he was on good enough terms with God to use His name in vain every once in a while and ignore that one particular commandment.

I crept silently down the hall and out to the doorway, slipping outside with the intention of getting as far away from Constantine as my poorly attired feet would let me. I hurried down the stairs in Father Hennessy's shoes and flung open the doorway when something made me instantly halt in my poorly plotted escape. Slamming the door shut, I yelped and quickly raced back up the staircase I had just zoomed down, heading back to the safety of the sanctum I had just left.

Constantine was on the phone when I rushed back inside of his apartment. He saw me entering and his small eyes widened to the largest I had ever seen them as I slammed the door shut and placed my back against it in supreme fright. The exorcist placed a hand over the receiver and asked, "What the Hell were you doing out?"

I went to reply but found my throat closed tightly.

The voice on the other end of the line saved me from having to answer though. John looked confused and removed his hand so he could talk to the caller. "What Midnite? Why in Heaven's name, should I look out the window exactly?"

Constantine's eyes lifted to mine. Seeing the terror in them, he dropped the phone, which hung loose now, swinging ominously to and fro, and immediately went to the sole window which did not appear to be strangely blocked. His hands remained on the sill as he peered out and I knew ahead of time the sight that awaited him.

Slowly I walked to the frozen figure of the exorcist and looked over his shoulder and to his left and right. Hundreds of Virginitas Incubi covered the building. They scurried this way and that, hungry, anxious and celebrating. Apparently, they had only left this one opening so Constantine could see the solitary man standing on the street corner opposite to where we stood gazing out.

The man was dressed completely in white and the skin about his eyes was reddish in hue. He looked up at John Constantine and smiled devilishly as he performed a little bow as if taking credit for a move well played.

"Lucifer," Constantine hissed before an Incubi moved his appalling body over the window, blocking our only view of the world outside of John Constantine's apartment where we were now successfully trapped.


	8. Trapped

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John Constantine and I become trapped in the apartment as the Incubi swarm outside and begin their corrupting influence on the exorcist.

Constantine began to pace up and down his apartment, running a hand through his hair. I couldn't quite figure out what he was mumbling under his breath; he might as well have been speaking in tongues for all I knew. I started to pray not knowing what else to do. Turning to see me trying to remain calm, Constantine held up a hand. "Don't worry," he commented. "The inside of the building is still protected. Only if I remove the protection can they enter."

I considered his words for a moment. "But if the Virginitas are corrupters isn't there a way they could influence you to somehow?"

Constantine swore and I quickly added to my prayer for God to have mercy on the man since he was under a lot of stress and did not know what he was doing.

We both looked at each other as we heard a noise coming from the apartment and realized in relief that it was Papa Midnite on the other end of the phone that was still dangling. John rushed over to it, as I did also, and we both placed our ears next to the phone between us.

"Midnite," Constantine said. "I just looked out. I saw them."

"They must have gone to Lucifer like I feared they would," the club owner replied. "Knowing this whole deal featured your soul would be incentive enough for him to lend the Incubi a helping hand. It seems like they made a pact to override the whole dream deal. They can get to your friend now without sleep playing any part of the deal."

"Yeah but how do we get out? Those nasty buggers have the building covered like a fresh coat of paint," the exorcist asked.

"If you go out they'll kill you," Midnite stated. "But I'll doubt they will let anybody _in_ also. You're on your own John. I can't risk getting involved."

"MIDNITE!" Constantine hissed loudly.

"Fuck the woman and get this whole mess over with. You looked like you were enjoying yourself in that closet before I interrupted you, John Constantine. So did she. Take my advice and have you both some fun."

And with those words Papa Midnite hung up the phone.

"Damn fucking Hell!" Constantine shouted and slammed the phone back down.

He walked away from it and gave me another good view of his back, refusing to look at me.

Obviously what Midnite had said was the best possible advice in the world, I knew and was more than happy to give myself to Constantine. Even if he didn't love me, at least, I did love him. Walking up to the man, who had resumed running a hand through his black hair, I held him from behind, pressing my cheek into his back and my arms around his middle. My hand touched his stomach and I heard John swallow harshly as the other came to rest on his chest.

We stood like that for a moment or two as the Incubi, no doubt, continued their crawling, scurrying and climbing of the apartment building outside. I could hear their footfalls now added with the now familiar sounds of Constantine's kitchen. Even though I could not hear it, I felt the man in my arms heartbeat like a battering ram inside of his chest.

"John, I think that maybe we should..."

He bolted out of my embrace and rushed to the cabinets and drawers, flinging them open and then finally the fridge as well.

"There seems to be some food at least for a while. Maybe by then we'll have come up with something," he commented, not looking at me. 

There was one thing that could come _up_ to solve the whole affair, I thought, but felt wounded knowing that John Constantine suddenly seemed against the whole notion. His passion inside of the closet at the Midnight Club had faded and now making love to me seemed something that he was unwilling to even consider.

I looked at the opened cupboards. It wasn't much but my teenaged years had been used to not living on less. After my parents had divorced and dad had stopped paying child support when I was about 15 or 16, I hardly ever saw him again only once or twice, things had been tight. My mom, sister, grandfather and I had once lived on nothing but tomato soup and popcorn for a week. I could handle it again.

I was suddenly concerned about something else entirely however.

"What about the other people in the apartment?" I asked. "Will the Incubi hurt them if they try to leave?"

John Constantine laughed and turned to look at me over his shoulder. "What other people? Have you spotted a single soul here? Besides, even if there were, it's only the two of us that they want. Nobody else is a virgin or an exorcist that pissed off the Devil here."

I frowned. I'd always wanted to be thought of as special but this definitely _wasn't_ what I had in mind.

* * *

We spent the next days in often tense silence. The fact that the Virginitas Incubi surrounded us was never far from our minds and it seemed to be taking a far greater toll on John than it was doing on me. While he had started off trying to comfort and reassure me, he soon degenerated into being snappy and ill tempered as time passed by. I felt guilty all the time knowing that I was to blame and had wished that I had gotten out of the apartment before Lucifer had freed the Incubi from their dream world.

One evening as we sat on the couch in Constantine's living room, both on the opposite ends, he had brought this intention of mine up as he sat antsy, twitchy and looking miserable on the far side. "So you were planning on leaving?"

"I..."

"Stupid little idiot...they would have just found you and gotten to you," the exorcist reprimanded testily. Fittingly, I thought his hand looked like it fell down closer towards his own testes as he said it but I tried not to look.

"At least, I would have been far away from you...then you wouldn't have had to have worried about..." I explained.

"Hurting you?" Constantine finished, violently turning his head in the opposite direction to avoid looking at me again.

I didn't reply.

A few minutes passed and silence fell on us again. I saw from the corner of my eye that Constantine's hand still lingered near his crotch. A few times, it brushed against it and I thought that the bulge usually present there had become even larger.

"I'd better go to my room to check something," I said, excusing myself.

Constantine turned to look at me. His features were softer now but his face still had the unhealthy cast of somebody suffering from an illness or addiction. "Good idea Erin," he said. "I should be getting back to the files to see if I can find anything."

I gave him a small smile and rose from the couch. He'd been through his books and esoterica a million times already and I knew he wouldn't find anything. As I was leaving though, I knew that Constantine had been lying anyway or that he'd be getting to it later.

From behind me, I heard the sound of a zipper openimg and the rustling of fabric as John Constantine began to attend to the urgent and painful demand of his arousal.

* * *

What Papa Midnite had said was true.

The longer my sweet and valiant protector was in the presence of the Virginitas Incubi the more excited he was becoming by staying near to me. I watched in secret, quiet pain how he was trying to hide his almost constant erection from me and the way that he would eye me lustfully when he thought I was not looking. The agony it was causing him was written on every line, bead of sweat and frown on his pale face.

Once when Angela phoned he practically bit her head off by telling her that everything was under control and to stay the Hell away. After he had slammed the receiver down he had looked at me so hungrily, I had known that half of his words to the woman had been for her own welfare and the other half because something inside of him was growing to dread interference between what was happening between him and I. When sanity had reclaimed him again and he'd rushed from the room, I had gone to the telephone and noticed a strange fluid coating it where his hand had previously been. 

I didn't need to be a rocket scientist to figure out what it was.

John Constantine was finding himself both wanting to get as far away from my plump little body as he could and yet finding himself horribly attracted as well, desiring to get closer than he ever had before.

"Tell me again why you never let anybody fuck you before?" he asked one night as he stood in my bedroom doorway, little more than a dark silhouette in its frame. His voice betrayed both his anger at the fact, seeing as though it had caused our shared predicament, and turned on by it too; as if he was gleefully proud of the fact.

"I don't know," I whispered, my head lying on my pillow as I grew too frightened to gaze at him. "I just always wanted it to be for love. It was never any good to me otherwise. Maybe it had to do with overhearing this group of older boys one day at school when I was about ten. This one boy was talking about how he had been trying to get this one girl to have sex with him. She said no she didn't want to because what would _God_ think...the boy had just laughed and told her that God was dog spelled backwards...all the boys he told it to just laughed and laughed. I just sat their quietly drawing a picture, listening to them because I couldn't help it and feeling bad...I loved God. I didn't like them laughing at Him. And I knew the girl. She was nice...to think of that boy talking that way about her without her knowing and all the other boys laughing...and some of them I had thought _were_ nice...it felt wrong...that always stuck with me: how little they respected the girl or sex...how little they _cared_. I didn't want it to be like that for me. I wanted the man to _love_ me and not just for it to be some story for him to tell and laugh about with his friends the next day."

I still could remember those boys and that awful feeling they had created inside of my mind and heart. Trying to block it out I whispered, "John."

When no reply came, I looked up only to find that the doorway was empty.

* * *

The next day, John Constantine spent avoiding me. In order to keep myself busy and out of the way, I fished my nightie covered in demon gunk out of the trash bag that lay waiting to be taken out; garbage day was apparently on hold in lieu of the hundreds or thousands of demons outside. Sure I had never wanted to see the thing again but the urge to face everything that had happened to me was suddenly strong and undeniable. The nightshirt represented that. I went and tried to clean the nightie off in the bathtub of the apartment neighbouring ours. John was right: the building seemed dead and the door was unlocked. I avoided looking at the windows with the Incubi staring in at me with their gloating eyes and their tongues suggestively licking their lips or the glass itself. All of the blinds and curtains had been drawn in Constantine's apartment so we blessedly didn't have to see them but here that blessing was not in effect.

Luckily there were no windows in the bathroom where I scrubbed and scrubbed my poor desecrated article of clothing.

Suprisingly the stuff came off with some antibacterial Dawn. I guessed, it worked on more than poor little oil slicked ducks. As the tar like substance which covered my fingers was subsequently washed off by the stream of water and eventually disappeared down the drain, I thought of Midnite's words. The Virginitas' seed was meant to keep me alive to increase my torment. Suddenly the thought of the stuff inside of me made me nauseated. As did the entire ordeal the man had described and Constantine's inevitable corruption and devastation when he returned to being himself.

Suicide seemed like a good option suddenly. Being Protestant, I really didn't see it as a sin. While John Constantine believed it to be an act of damnation, I thought God was more forgiving. It all came down to belief, I guessed.

In truth, though, I did not want to kill myself. I still hoped that there would some way out for both John and myself.

I said another little prayer, asking God to get us out of the mess.

Wringing the excess water from my now clean nightie, I walked back to the apartment. The clothing was dripping in my hand, and I intended to find a hanger and then hang it above the tub in order to drip dry. The hanger was easily found in the closet in my room; I placed my nightie on it and then walked to the bathroom.

The door to the room was slightly askew and I peeked in before entering which was a good move since Constantine was already in there. The man wasn't taking a bath or the other bit of business associated with that particular room, though. He sat on the tub's edge, dressed in his white dress shirt and black tie; his trousers were pooled around his ankles as he was attending to the primary act which had been preoccupying his mind for the last few days of our captivity.

I watched in voyeuristic fascination as John Constantine held his swollen and erect member in his hand and worked it sensuously. His head was back and his eyes were closed as his hand went up and down its red and angry shaft, coating it with the precum which was leaking out so that his palm could glide with more ease. His other hand alternately rubbed the head of the penis where the fluid was spilling out but occassionally traveled to his balls with the intention to play with them also.

Watching his action and the expression on his face as he gave to himself the pleasure that he was trying his best not to forcibly take from me, I bit down on my bottom lip as tears stung my eyes. In contrast to my deep sorrow for the man that was trying his best to remain good and not cave under the Incubi's bad influence, my own arousal began; my clit swelling and my vagina twitching in its wish that the cock the man was trying to appease was cradled deep within it instead.

I saw the organ start to spasm in John's hands also and knew he had finally brought himself to orgasm and hopefully a few moments of peace before the need would claim him again. And as he reached his climax, his ready phallus spraying out its come, seed my body would willingly and gratefully receive instead of the offering of the Virginitas, I heard John Constantine cry out my name as his semen rained down on and hit his own face.

His hands going to his cheeks to wipe it off, I feared that he would finally open his eyes and find me watching him; I turned and ran down the hallway, my cheeks and legs as similarly wet as the nightie pressed close to my heart


	9. On a Knife's Edge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John Constantine orders me to stay inside of my room as he finds himself on the edge of corruption.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel that this is a pretty intense chapter so I should warn you. I had to add an extra chapter which I wasn't counting on. I promise that things will turn out well but this is a horror piece also so that needs to be dealt with. But romantic stuff is coming up. Don't worry.

On the morning of fifth day the Virginitas Incubi started whispering so that even I could hear them. 

It was very low at the start, like a radio only turned a third of the way up. But straining my ears, I could hear it very clearly nonetheless.

_"You want her don't you...to hurt her as badly as she's making you hurt...Bring her to us John...the pain will end then John...don't you want it to end? No more girl...no more pain...So simple..."_

I hadn't seen Constantine since I had watched him masturbating in the bathroom; he was still avoiding me. But I knew that this was what he had been hearing constantly inside of his mind since the Incubi had surrounded us. It was a tune he could not free himself from but one which played insidiously over and over again in his mind.

_"You'll ravage her if we don't take her first...Best let us do it...you can have what's left then when it has already been done...plant your seed inside her when it's too late to do any worse...isn't that better?"_

I hadn't been able to hear it before but John always had. Maybe it was because he had the gift of sight. Maybe it was because he was the male they had chosen to corrupt, egged on by Lucifer, the Devil, himself. Either way the words and his own growing lust haunted him and the poor man had spent days trying to hide the fact in order to protect me.

_"It's too hard...too hard for you...stupid bitch keeping it to herself...you wish to go inside of her...her cunt would feel so good wrapped around that throbbing piece of flesh of yours...ram your cock into her until it comes out her fucking mouth...or better yet, let us do that for you...you can do it when she's past all saving...no guilt then...and if there is...isn't it better than the paaaiinnnnn?"_

But he was losing his strength and his sanity in the process.

By the time the Virginitas decided to allow me to also hear their crude, cruel whispers John Constantine had decided he could no longer trust himself.

I found him later, when evening became night, sitting at his wooden table, looking in a book for the millionth time for answers he was never going to find. He was dressed only in a white dress shirt and black pants A cigarette lay in an ashtray by his side but it was untouched. I guessed, with his supply of gum having been consumed, he had found a stashed away box of cigarettes instead. Still he could not bring himself to touch it and break his nicotine abstinence. I wondered if this temptation was meant to help him in some way forget about the one I presented.

There was sweat on John's face, once so assured but now so very tired. Even though the apartment had become hot, the air conditioning having stopped working ages ago from a Incubi presumably blocking the venting system with its foul body, Constantine's sweat was from his sickness. Around his eyes there was skin turning crimson, almost the same color as the Virginitas' skin, and his hands were twitching as he pulled on the corner of a page. His other hand was not visible and I knew that it was under the table, playing with his member as it usually was now.

He looked up from the book as he became aware of my presence and that I was watching him.

Seeing me, hunger flooded his eyes and a snarl danced at the corner of his lips. Constantine, the real John Constantine, groaned as he pushed his other self away, fixing me with the most heartbreaking look of apologetic sorrow I had ever seen in another human's eyes.

He was no longer playing with himself or the corner of the book. Instead he began to rip a page in half and fold it with shaking fingers. When he had finished he finally addressed me.

"I think it's best if you go to your room and lock the door, Erin," Constantine advised, his voice as equally shaky as the hand which placed a small origami figure of a woman on to the table before him. His fingers were coated in his own semen which in return was smeared on to the tiny paper woman.

"What about you?" I asked, reluctant to leave him alone in the rest of the apartment with the insinuating whispers of the Incubi overcrowding his mind.

"I-I'll," he whispered as his hands went to work on another piece of paper: the same hands I'd secretly witnessed use the same skill on his penis as he sat on the bathtub's edge. He struggled with the words at the same time he folded the paper "Beeee fi-fine," he finally managed to say.

The maneuverings of his fingers finished and the task complete, John Constantine placed a small unicorn on the table. It was very much like the one he had made the night of our first meeting. 

"I'll be _fine_ ," he repeated as he looked to the unicorn he had made and began to pet it gently.

He raised his red eyes and met mine across the length of the table. Then offering me a sudden mad and lusty grin, he abruptly grabbed the unicorn and began to violently ram its long sharp horn between the figure of the woman's legs.

John Constantine was laughing maniacally as I ran to my room and locked the door behind me.

* * *

I could hear the exorcist moving throughout the apartment during the sixth day even if I did not see him. He was talking to himself sometimes and to the Virginitas at others. Arguments were had as well as conversations akin to the type heard in men's locker rooms; like the one I had heard that one day in my schoolroom long ago. Always, John snapped himself out of it. I heard him screaming "No" often and fighting with them before they could drag from him an invitation.

That was when I realized that that was all they needed to enter John Constantine's apartment now: an invitation to come inside it. Like vampires, consent was what was required. It struck me as oddly ironic that for being raping bastards they were suddenly seeking consent now.

By night (at least, I assumed it was night, the windows all closed and the blinds treated likewise it was hard to tell) I'd changed back into my purple nightie and was lying in bed, clutching a pillow, and dreading the moment when my defender's willpower would finally break and he would allow the Virginitas Incubi entrance.

After about an hour of not hearing Constantine's voice at all, I began to grow worried. When a large crash like glass shattering was heard from the kitchen, followed by the exorcist's pained scream as he called my name, I was terrified. More for his sake then my own, however. I ran to the door, unlocked it and rushed outside of the questionable safety of my room.

"JOHN?" I called out, running towards where I had heard the scream coming from.

The blinds on the windows had all been opened and the Virginitas peered in both excited and seemingly angry. By the floor beside the kitchen table, I saw a large broken vase but not John Constantine.

My eyes rested on the now empty ashtray, as I started to smell smoke, and turned around to see the man I had come to assist staring at me with newfound composure. He was back to being completely dressed in his full suit of black. A cigarette rested between his maliciously smiling lips and his eyes trailed down my plump body in unrepentant and coarse sexual desire.

This was not the John Constantine I knew and loved. Nor was it even the desperate man in the closet of the Midnite Club who had been willing to take my virginity in order to spare me from future devastation and destruction; no, this John Constantine _wanted_ my pain and my sex writhing in agony around him.

I saw the hallway back to my bedroom on one side and the exit out of Constantine's apartment on the other; my chubby legs carried me as swiftly as they could in their direction, swerving away from the exorcist who made a leap for me. Either route of escape was too far, however, and John too quick; his speed increased due to his want.

"PLEASE NO!" I cried out as he wrapped an arm around my thick waist and dragged me backwards towards the table.

His other hand grabbed my head and pulled it back as he made his journey. As he smelled my hair, his cigarette burned the skin on my neck and he spit the cursed thing out so he could lick the burnt flesh and then bite it. I screamed in pain and the Incubi, watching from their seats at the windows, went crazy.

" _BRING HER OUT TO US_ ," they raised their voices in unison to become one in order to deliver their commandment. " _GIVE HER TO US JOHN CONSTANTINE!_ "

John slammed me down on to the table, the piece of furniture shaking but not giving out under my weight. Despite my fright, I marvelled at how well the darn thing must have been made not to collapse from my size and the strength with which Constantine had brought me down upon it.

"SHUT UP! SHE'S MINE!" Constantine shouted at his demonic audience who hissed and hurled their angry complaints at him, enraged at their intended slave's defiance and their own impending starvation.

John Constantine turned to look at me lying on the table, scared almost to death. It was as if my fear turned him on even more and he roared down at me, giving the bulging crotch of his trousers a few forceful yanks. His hand slinking up to his nearby pocket, he pulled a knife out and placed it to my neck. Noticing what I was wearing for the first time, the exorcist seemed almost pleased.

"I thought I threw that stupid thing out," he said, eyeing me ravenously. "You went digging through the trash for it? _Dirty_ girl. You want it _dirty_? We can arrange that."

"John, you don't know what you're doing," I whispered. "Fight it, okay?" I further pleaded.

"I've done that already," he spat. "Now's the time for surrender."

The knife dipped into the collar of my nightie; I watched as Constantine ran the sharp blade down the middle of the article of clothing until it was torn from top to bottom. Placing the knife back to my throat, he spread the cut cloth to each side, exposing my body. He clutched a breast and squeezed it painfully. I cried out loudly and he mimicked the sound of it, laughing in crazed delight.

Looking at the pale canvas of my belly, John moved his knife to it and began to carve.

"J....C..." he stated from each painful but superficial cut. "Same letters as your beloved savior, huh, Erin?"

A whimper escaped from my lips and John leaned forward so that his body was pressed against mine and the bloody letters were stamped on his white dress shirt in reverse. He nuzzled his head into my neck again, whispering almost lovingly, "You can pretend they're his if you want to but we'll both know who they really belong to. Won't we?"

He kissed my skin and I hated the way that I loved him enough that I was aroused by his action, the feeling of his weight on top of me and his erection brushing against my wounded stomach.

The Incubi must have sensed my sexual pleasure. They scurried over the building, wailing and scratching on the glass, impatiently. 

Biting my bottom lip, I tried to will away my unwanted excitement. John must have sensed it from the Incubi's and my own reaction. The man removed his body from mine, quickly turning his attention to my fur covered mound and parting the folds to see for himself my swelling clit. 

"So your bud is blooming only from a little old kiss?" he asked. 

He brought the knife to my thighs and rubbed it against them. He kept his eyes, however, focused between my legs, looking at my clit to see if it had calmed down. It hadn't. The fact that I sometimes became aroused when I was scared was not helping any.

"How about this?" he asked, frowning, rubbing the knife's blade into my labia without using the sharpened edge of it. He let it rise to my bud and I felt the cold steel against it as he massaged the flat side into it, causing me to shudder from the contact.

"I'm not exactly after you getting off on this though," John Constantine finally said. "That isn't how this works."

"How does it work?" I asked, tears sliding from the corner of my eyes and into my hair.

"Pain," he gave the answer I expected as he placed the knife to my vagina, letting me know that he planned to use the weapon there before he even entered me himself. 

It would hurt more that way when he finally took me.

"John," I whispered.

"Yeah?" he met my gaze derisively.

"Do me one favor," I pleaded gently.

"What?" he asked. "Don't make it hurt? That's what this is all about. Just be grateful it's me and not them."

Constantine nodded in the direction of the rioting and cursing demons watching outside and I knew why the blinds had all been lifted. The man intended to put on a show for his tormentors to repay them for the pain they had caused him. My rape and death was to be vengeful entertainment directed towards them and joyful glee to end the suffering his mind and body had been enduring for days now.

"I am grateful," I confessed softly. "I love you, at least."

A flash of my John in his dark, red rimmed eyes.

"Just promise me you'll forgive yourself. This _isn't_ you. I forgive you. God forgives you, the man whose initials match the ones you just gave me does...and you should too."

The hand holding the knife to my opening went slack as Constantine became himself once more and the weapon fell to the table. John Constantine grasped his head and screamed in extreme pain before he ran for the door of the apartment and out into the building's hallway.


	10. Demons and Confessions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and I get to the heart of the matter on why he will not allow himself to make love to me.

"CONSTANTINE!" I shouted as I hopped off of the table and started to run after him. "WAIT!"

My nightie was torn and opened, flapping as I ran and embarrassingly showing off the center of my bouncing body, but it didn't matter. The only thing that did was to get to John Constantine before he did something stupid.

I exited the doorway and saw John fleeing down the staircase. As quickly as I had ever moved before, I pursued him, the blood from where he had carved his initials cool on my belly from the breeze created as I ran. He reached the doorway out of the building long before I did but was unable to escape. The Incubi at the threshold laughed and mocked him, barring his way out. Either they longed to keep him trapped inside with me for his own corruption or it had been a part of the pact they had made with Lucifer. It didn't stop Constantine from trying to escape however; he forcibly tried to struggle with the demons to let him pass. For his valiant effort, all the exorcist received was a few taunts and a large cut on the side of his face as one of the Virginitas Incubi ran their claw down his pale flesh. 

The poor man was visibly weakened by the time I reached him. A few Virginitas stretched out their taloned hands in unison and pushed John backwards and on top of me. His head landed on my exposed breasts as his own chest landed on my belly. I held him protectively but shrieked as I witnessed one of the Virginitas stretching out a hand to grab my bare foot. Apparently in his confused and wounded state, Constantine's will was breaking and the demon had broken through the barrier.

"JOHN!" I screamed and this seemed to bring the exorcist back to his senses. As he turned to look at the Incubi's hand surrounding my ankle, it turned to fire; unfortunately it ended up scorching my own skin before it pulled its arm back and outside of the building. 

I used my now freed foot to kick the door shut.

"Sorry," John said as he looked at me with broken eyes and touched my cheek tenderly.

"It's okay. C'mon," I said touching his own. "We need to get you back to the apartment."

He hardly had any strength left and needed to lean on my shoulders as we climbed back up the stairs. He was heavy but nothing I couldn't handle not exactly being a weakling myself. Still it took some time and effort and we were both panting and exhausted by the time we crossed the doorstep. Constantine practically pushed himself out of my arms and fell on to the floor, shaking. I noticed his hand once again going to the zipper of his trousers and he pulled out his penis, still erect and angry looking as he started to play with it again. Looking down at the man lying on the floor, masturbating, I went to my knees and touched the red, swollen member with my own hand. At first, Constantine's expression became wonderfully, gratefully relieved as I began to stroke the raw looking part of his anatomy, a beautiful mixture of sexual pleasure and salvation written on his face, before guilt mixed with pain claimed it again and he backed away from my touch.

"Why won't you let me?" I asked softly. "It will solve everything if you just have sex with me. I'm in love with you. I know you don't love me but that's okay now."

John Constantine looked up into my face with a sardonic smile playing at the corner of his lips while his hand went back to playing with his cock. "When did I ever say that I didn't love you?" he asked.

The words did nothing less than shock me completely. They made my breath stop and my eyes widen in absolute surprise. My heart was pounding loudly as we stared at one another from our places on the floor, the exorcist on his side while I knelt down next to him.

"I loved you from the moment I first opened my door and I saw you standing there in this stupid purple nightie, your bare feet bleeding all over the floor."

Constantine grabbed a corner of my torn nightie with his free hand and rubbed it between his fingers.

The smile had left his face and he was all earnest somberness. There was no room to doubt his confession: John Constantine had fallen in love with me as much as I had with him.

"Why then?" I asked pleadingly, holding his face in my plump hands, one of them becoming bloody from the scratch on the side of his face. "Why won't you just make love to me and stop this whole ordeal? What's stopping you?"

Constantine frowned, an action filled with regret and sorrow. "Erin, I'm only a little bit better than those things outside. Maybe I see them because I'm _like_ them..."

He looked away from me and quoted from Nietzsche as if to help him prove his point.

"Beware that, when fighting monsters, you yourself do not become a monster... for when you gaze long into the abyss. The abyss gazes also into you...”

His eyes returned to mine just as mournful as before although they now contained a large amount of self-hatred as well. "I don't want them having you...but I can't have you either. I've been to Hell and thought I could escape it. But I've looked into the abyss. Maybe all I've been doing by saving people is trying to forget how much of a demon and worthy of Hell that I am... When I saw you praying when they were swarming around the building...I knew that you were too good for me and to take you would be a sin."

"Oh John," I said, gently stroking his cheek. "I'm no better than any other human being in Los Angeles. That I'm a virgin...that I'm a Christian doesn't make me better. I have a thousand bad thoughts, I do a thousand bad and selfish things..."

He was still staring at me as if he was unconvinced. I needed to tackle his own self-doubt, it seemed.

"You aren't any worse either!" I exclaimed. "Infact, you are better than most. You try, John. With all your beautiful heart you try and that's all God asks of us. He must love and believe in you an awful lot to let you see horrors that he doesn't trust others to see. He loves you John Constantine. It's about time you loved yourself, don't you think? We're only human...both you and me."

The man looked as if he wanted to have faith in what I was saying but that he still doubed every single word. I thought of my own depression and OCD. The voice inside of my head telling me that I was bad and never any good...like a demon I could never be rid of.

My eyes then went to the window and saw the Virginitas Incubi peering in with their dirty little thoughts and their corrupting presence. I remembered Papa Midnite's words and how he had said they brought out the worst in man essentially. Self doubt and self loathing could be equally destructive. The belief that we were never good enough, that God could never love us for who we were. I recalled a woman named Dorothy Day once saying that the greatest sin we could ever commit was believing that God did not love us.

After the incident at the Midnight Club, John had retreated from me. I had scared him probably just as all people (especially men as self reliant as he had always been) were scared by love: because it makes us all powerless. If you love anything it could make you weak, C.S. Lewis had wisely said. I had the power to disrupt his solitary existence and that frightened him. Added to that, the fact that he hated himself and it was a dangerous mixture of self preservation and self destruction.

But at some point, the latter had won out so now he was willing to have us both become fodder for the Incubi instead of allowing himself to be with me.

I recalled how Constantine had just so much as confessed that his feelings of not being good enough for me had fully taken hold of him after seeing me praying. This had coincided with the Incubi's full scale appearance.

And when they had started to whisper their lies inside of his susceptible mind....

"Do you hear them inside of your head?" I asked as he continued to shake and please himself. "Do they tell you that you are bad...that I couldn't really love you?"

A shudder passed through his body; the hand working his member became more violent in its action and I knew that I had guessed correctly. The Incubi had gotten inside of Constantine's head in more ways than Midnite had even warned us about: Not only were they tempting him with his human desires they were tormenting him with his basic goodness and subsequent insecurities as well.

"My poor baby," I whispered as I brought my lips to his and brushed the two against one another. I let them stay there lightly as I continued to speak. "You've spent so much time helping other people out and fighting demons...you couldn't tell when they had gotten inside of your own mind."

I kissed him again more passionately and I could feel him responding with his own desire, this time one of a more human and not demonic kind. Breaking the kiss, one of my hands sensuously trailed down his body until it found his penis once more and gave its precome coated shaft an enthusiastic run from base to head, causing Constantine to moan loudly in cathartic sexual pleasure.

"I think you need a little exorcism of your own, John Constantine," I announced lustily.


	11. The Exorcism of John Constantine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I exorcise John Constantine from the influence of the Incubi.

I took the swollen and hard piece of John Constantine's flesh into my hand and once more began to move my hand up and down its long shaft as I had witnessed him doing for days now. It was like velvet to my touch and John set free another moan of release from a touch that was no longer his own but mine.

The Virginitas screamed outside from their front row seats by the window realizing what I was planning on doing and that their meal was about to be taken off of the menu entirely.

Very much liking the feel of John's reddened member, I enjoyed feeling it a bit more as I leaned closer towards him. "Stand up," I softly instructed my freely chosen lover, tugging on his penis with my right hand while using my left to cup his cheek and stroke it gently with my thumb.

"No. You don't n-need to...to," Constantine stated.

"Oh but I do," I whispered, bringing my head closer to his ear. "And more than that...I _want_ to. So stand up or I'll take that beautiful cock of yours right into my mouth where you are lying, John Constantine. You were willing to go that far for me in the Midnight Club's closet. I'd be more than willing to do the same to save you."

Breathing heavily from his own need and want, John scrambled to his feet where he then stood before me, his dick a matter of inches away from my lips. It looked impatient and sore as if my mouth was its own restricted club it craved entrance to. I quickly kissed its tip and watched as a bit of precome dripped out like it was saliva and it longed to kiss me back. As willing as the member was, the man it belonged to still seemed unsure and hesitant; his shame was betrayed by his body which seemed as stiff as his cock.

I wanted to loosen him up a bit and only hoped that I would do a good enough job once I started to attend to his demanding cock. Undoing his belt, I let his pants fall on to the floor around his ankles. I took hold of the penis' shaft again and started to run my hand up from the base to its head and then down again, not worrying if I was doing it too forcefully. I'd heard that the shaft wasn't the most sensitive part somewhere. Seeing the way that John had been manhandling himself it didn't seem to be. Besides if I did something that he didn't enjoy, the proof would be staring me right in the face, I reasoned.

My mouth closed the distance between it and John Constantine's penis and tentatively began to taste it. Another deep groan came out of the exorcist making me a little braver. I licked the slit again of its precome only to watch more come leaking out furiously and I giggled.

"What are y-you laughing at down there?" John asked, sounding a bit like his old self but still trembling.

"It reminds me of a straw, where just when you think you've got that last bit overflowing from it, out spurts a little bit more," I explained.

The man I was squeezing the cock of looked down at me in mock offense. "Did you just compare my dick to a straw?" he asked.

"Only the process. This...this is too _big_ to ever be mistaken for a measly little straw, John Constantine. It looks too large for this little old mouth of mine," I answered precociously, rushing my hand from top to bottom again, watching as the precome pooling at the tip started to drip down. "But I promise to certainly give it a try."

I placed my tongue on the enflamed glans again, letting my tongue lick up some more of the spilling fluid while I continued to pump him. Constantine gasped while the Virginitas began to wail outside, viewing as I started to use my mouth to give to the tormented exorcist some relief and pleasure as last. I rubbed my lips at the peak seeing how much I could take in of its mushroom like head as my tongue continued to lap up precome and swirl around the underside. To my surprise I managed to fit a fair amount in, aided by the saliva filling my mouth and John's natural lubricant. The wetter his cock became the more it slid in until all of the glans was practically inside of my mouth, my hands working his length occassionally met my lips now surrounding the head of his cock.

John cried out loudly, some attempt at my name, I think, but came out too desperate. My free hand lowered to his balls and started to explore them too. My mouth, becoming curious about what they would feel like now inside of it as well, slipped from the saliva covered penis and started to kiss his scrotum. John moaned, his head going to my head to caress my hair while I attended to him. I licked his raphe and then slowly suckled on each ball for a bit all the while playing with his cock. Whatever I was doing, John's organ seemed to be enjoying it for I felt a large gob of his fluid dripping on to my head.

"Sorry," John mumbled and tried to wipe it off with the cuff of his suit's sleeve. 

Looking up, I saw that, while Constantine's penis was enjoying itself, the man it belonged to still had guilt etched on his face. I cast an eye to the window and the demons outside playing voyeurs. I cursed them inside of my mind. They were probably still filling Constantine's head with nonsense. I looked back to the expression on John's face and the war inside his soul betrayed on it. The poor man was obviously fighting the bliss I was bestowing upon him, feeling ashamed for letting me do what I was doing to him. If he knew how wet I was becoming between my own legs and the throbbing of my clit as I got the chance to adore his genitalia with both hands and mouth he'd have known how wrong the voices were. 

But I didn't want to only adore him with my hands and mouth at the moment, I realized. There were two other parts of me that wanted to get join in on the fun also.

"Hey Constantine," I said, kneeling up straighter and taking my hands off of his cock for a moment. His eyes watched as I sensuously slipped out of the remnant of my poor purple nightie and then grabbed a handful of each of my large breasts. "Do you mind if these get into the action too?"

With quick and forceful movement, I brought my chest to John Constantine's crotch and placed his weeping prick against the cleavage so that a mound of my flesh was on either side of its towering structure. It looked beautiful placed there: its redness contrasting prettily with the whiteness of my breasts. As John peered down I saw him also admiring the view and felt as fresh precome spilled out of him again, dribbling down his glans to touch my own flesh. I shuddered when it finally reached my bosom and then started to enthusiastically rub my breasts against his erection.

"Erin!" John called out, his head falling back, enjoying this new turn of events tremendously. He placed a hand on each of my shoulders as I moved my tits against his shaft. 

More and more fluid gushed out making both my chest and his cock drenched. I loved the feel of John Constantine moving up and down between my tits. Joining his cock to my overly sensitive breasts was exciting us both. I moaned, feeling my nipples tingling against my palm.

"You like that don't you?" John Constantine asked as his left hand left my shoulder in order to play with my hair, winding a strand around his finger.

"Yes," I cooed. "The feeling of your cock touching my breasts...your precome coating me in between and on them... making me so wet...just like your making me flood between my legs. I can feel it dripping out and down my thighs."

"You're a good dirty little Christian girl?" he whispered, his knuckles now lowering to caress the bulge of my left breast. 

I gasped. "The dirtiest God can make," I stated. "You'll find out that since He created sex and all he can be far _dirtier_ than even the devil himself."

"That I do know," Constantine stated. "He made me too, afterall."

And with that declaration, the exorcist let go of his shame and began thrusting violently up into my massive mammaries. The Virginitas Incubi outside began to pound on the glass of the window as they cried in hungry agony. I managed my own squeal, this one in delight, as I increased my own efforts. Seeing the head of his cock appearing from the tunnel of my breasts I seized upon it, wrapping my mouth around it which made Constantine almost turn to jelly. An action he was too soon returning to his tough facade to actually complete. But I could feel it from his movement which faltered for a moment before returning with extra vigour and his breath which hitched for a second and thereafter seemed laboured.

We remained like that for a few seconds more: a big naked woman kneeling in front of a half suited man whom was having the time of his life fucking her breasts while a gaggle of demons watched in torment from outside.

"Erin I'm coming!" Constantine shouted suddenly.

I think he was expecting me to take his member from out of my mouth but I let it stay where it was as he started to ejaculate inside of its moist enclosure. The spasming member danced between my tits while I held its head safely in my mouth, licking its underside. When John had presumably finished coming, I removed the penis head but let its shaft remain nestled between my breasts. I made a show of swallowing my lover's come for him. It tasted of salt, bitterness and a little undefined sweetness; kind of like Constantine himself. John's cock surprised us both by announcing its approval at the sight of my come swallowing by shooting off again, straight on to my face and chest.

I involuntarily fell backwards when some landed in my eye and John was kneeling beside me in a heartbeat, helping me back on my own knees.

"I'm sorry...didn't know that was left," he apologized, hastily pulling his pants back up.

I laughed giddily. "It's okay. I was warned by a Christmas Story not to play with guns: You'll shoot your eye out kid!"

Noting his fluid covering my face and chest, I watched Constantine, through one eye, suddenly become sheepish again. "Come on. Let's and get you cleaned up."

He grabbed me under the shoulders, lifting me onto my feet partially as I still wiped my eye. We looked and saw the Incubis rioting outside the window and Constantine seemed to stop and stare at them. I knew they were still worming their malicious insinuations back inside of his mind. Knowing that despite our sexual foreplay he still seemed susceptible to them, probably after having been tirelessly inside of his mind for far too long, I hurried him quickly into the bathroom. 

Once inside of it, we both knelt beside the bathtub while he started to run the water. John Constantine was staring at the water in a daze, his pale face flushed.

"Aren't you going to clean me off?" I asked, trying to bring him out of his thoughts which didn't seem particularly pleasant. "You made me awfully dirty, Constantine."

John snapped out of it and studied my face. He grabbed the bar of soap I had dwindled down to a sliver and looked at me in pretend reproach. "It used to be a lot bigger," he stated. "I wonder who did it."

"Just like your cock before you unleashed your seed all over me," I stated. "I was guilty of that one too."

He smiled in amusement as he lathered it up and started to wash my face off, using a nearby face cloth to aid him.

My vision was fully returning and I watched him, seeing worry deep inside of his eyes. When he had finished cleaning my face, he acted as if he were about to stop until I pushed my chest up at him, his precome and come still dripping down it. From his staring at it, I felt my nipples tingling, a sensation which only deepened as he timidly began to clean this off as well. I didn't like his hesitation, how he avoided my expectant teats, but took it as another sign that without my sexual coaxing he was falling prey to the demons self hating influence again.

While he was scrubbing my breasts, I dipped my hand in between my legs, collecting a great deal of my cream. Very well coated, I took my hand out and began to rub it all over Constantine's member, pulling it out from his still unzipped trousers and lubing it up well for what I had prepared next. Losing my virginity in a bathroom didn't exactly appeal to me but losing a certain type seemed just fine. Besides, I wanted to make sure that there was no hole left for the Virginitas to claim by the time John Constantine was through with me.

"You know, when I was cleaning myself off in your little old bathtub there, Mr. Constantine," I said, running my hand up and down the cock I felt twitching back to life and as the man continued washing my breasts. "I thought of you cleaning yourself off in it, your dick to be more precise," I confessed. "And I got so turned on sitting there...you went and made me all dirty again. That wasn't very nice of you."

I circled his glans with my wet finger and it started to rise. The exorcist's hands cleaning my big tits were becoming more enthusiastic in their endeavor as I spoke and fooled around naughtily with his penis. He was grabbing and fondling, massaging and pulling on my nipples and making them emerge just as much as he was becoming hard from my touch. By the time John had washed off the soap and come we were both so turned on, we fell into each other forcefully, our lips meeting for a passionate kiss; my wet chest made his white shirt similarly soaked. I continued pulling on his cock until, I broke our kiss, with him trying to pull me back into it.

"Unh unh John Constantine," I said. "I've got another hole for you to claim."

I turned away and went on to my hands and knees. I turned and looked at the startled and horny exorcist. "You've been looking at my ass all this time...Don't you think it's time to try it out?"

I wriggled my butt at him playfully. When he continued to stare at it, I moved it in a circle and then started to bump it up and down. Once again Constantine's cock looked eager but he seemed reluctant.

"Are you sure?" he asked, his finger coming to trace my crack.

I shuddered in pleasure from the feeling of his finger trailing up the crevice. "Yes. Just please play with it a bit first. I'd like that."

Constantine moved closer towards me after a few seconds. He grabbed a large cheek in each hand and squeezed them, grunting in approval. Once again his finger dipped in between my cheeks but this time it found my asshole and began to massage it.

"Unhhh," I moaned, liking the way he was circling the puckered hole.

When he took his finger away, I was surprised when his tongue found his way to it instead and started to lick it as his hands spread my cheeks apart for better access to the orifice. It was a wonderful experience of pleasure, his tongue playing with my hole while his hands squeezed my fat ass cheeks, mushing them in his grip, forcefully. When his face suddenly exited its place sandwiched between my buttocks, I soon felt something else placed there and knew Constantine had brought his swollen dick to my crack, preparing for entrance. He ran it up and down a few times and I realized gratefully that it was even wetter than before, his excitement having further prepared it.

I waited for the moment and felt anxiously as John started to push inside of me. Wanting to cry out from the pain, I bit my lip, tears filling my eyes. To cry out would be to stop him and I wanted him to carry through to his climax.

Still I heard him ask me gently and compassionately from behind, "Are you okay?"

"Mmmm hmmm," I said. "Now you'd better just enjoy yourself back there."

Since he was timid to start moving into me, I did it for him, bumping and grinding a bit. John started to thrust as the motion went straight from his penis to his hips which kept pushing, his hands still clenching my ass. After a while I cried out too, feeling his length sliding up and down inside of me. It was still not completely pleasurable and I couldn't help it. But I was happy that my man was obviously enjoying himself.

Not a selfish lover himself, I suddenly felt, John's arm scoop around my belly and pull me into a kneeling position again while he was buried inside of my anus. He pushed his face into my facial cheek and kissed it. "Brave girl," he praised.

I felt his hands go to my breasts and fondle them, toying with the teats, making me gasp and feel so good in my clit and cunt. Constantine continued to attend to my breasts as he pounded into me. But my own pleasure was growing now and I was whimpering. The exorcist's hands felt my round stomach and one dipped to my vulva. He petted my chubby, furry mound and then ran his fingers through my hair a few times before dipping inside of me and pressing my clit.

"Ohhhh..." I cried out in bliss, jutting forward into his touch.

Bringing his free hand to my face, Constantine pushed my lips towards his and we kissed hungrily as our ecstasy finally became one.

John Constantine continued forth in thrusting into me all the while as he caressed my breasts and teased my nub, making the pressure build and my vagina clench needingly. I felt myself climaxing, having long forgotten that Constantine was in an unusual hole. I was calling out his name amidst unintelligible sounds as my body shook in his hands. Even my asshole started to spasm around Constantine's cock which had finally had enough of his own maddening joy and spat out a load of praise into my ass.

We were gasping as our lips found one another desperately, kissing and parting and kissing again in a series of dizzying kisses.

"You need a rest," John Constantine stated. "Tomorrow we can figure out what to do next."

I shook my sweat drenched face and bit my lip. "No," I rejected his words. "You know very well what comes next. My cunt is wet, wide and wanting your cock filling it, John Constantine. Don't let me spend one more night haunted with nightmares and without the dream of you spreading me open and ravaging me with all that you got." 

John smiled and kissed me lovingly on my lips and then the end of my largish nose.

"You got it sweetness," he declared as decently cocky and confident as only a John Constantine free of all demonic possession could. "But first I'd better clean myself off."

"Ohhhh! Can I watch?" I asked in saucy delight.

"Yeah," Constantine said with a smile before grabbing my face and kissing me hungrily once more.


	12. All's Well That Ends Without Hell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I willingly and wholeheartedly give my virginity to John Constantine.

John and I had fun cleaning up, even if the Virginitas outside wailed, showing their opposite sentiment. After days of torment trapped inside of the apartment, we were finally able to relax after some much needed sexual release. Constantine was fully back to himself and free from the Incubi's influence. And I was in seventh Heaven getting to watch him clean his penis off. He was even so kind as to let me help him and to offer his assistance when it came to being my turn too. When we were finally finished, Constantine looked at me so fondly that I felt my shyness momentarily return. Then he tenderly kissed my forehead and told me to wait for him in his bedroom.

"Okay," I consented and quickly added, "I love you."

The exorcist smiled and then brought his lips to mine, wrapping his clothed arms around my naked shoulders. When the kiss deepened, I felt his hands trail down my back and come to rest on the small of my back.

When our lips had separated, John held me and kissed my cheek. "Thank you for saving me, Erin," he said.

"I'm the one who got you into trouble in the first place," I said, rubbing his back. "Now it's your turn to _save_ me."

"Are you really sure you want me to be the one?"

"And nobody else," I whispered and kissed his shoulder.

Parting, John kissed me on my forehead before gently moving me away and towards the door. On my way to his bedroom, casting a glance first over my shoulder to see him offering me a wink, I realized that I was stark naked in almost full light and didn't give a darn. Any fear about my weight had been erased by Constantine's full acceptance of me and in the urgency of helping him. It was a wonderful feeling to not have to be ashamed anymore, to trust and love another human being so much that you could be so exposed and vulnerable without fear of judgment or condemnation. Smiling, I opened the door to the exorcist's bedroom and turned on the light so I could see, the curtains all having been drawn in the room, excited about getting my first glimpse of John Constantine's inner sanctum.

I half expected it to be littered with charms and mystical etchings, with esoteric paraphernalia and things that would make me confused and curious. Instead all I found waiting for me was the bedroom of any average human male. Other than the stacks of books on the floor pertaining to his rather unusual profession, Constantine went to sleep in a room that was like any that you'd find in Los Angeles. The bedsheets looked a little worn but comfortable and blue. The pillows needed fresh pillowcases too, maybe, but so did my own. The walls were coated in a shade torn between purple and brown and on them were hung some art pieces, not of demons or angels but of some forties or fifties designs in surrealism.

By the bed was a cabinet and beside that a dresser on which sat a record player to match the one that could be found closer to the kitchen in the apartment. All around it were some more origami figures and I saw the little unicorn John had made to tease me about my virginity, on the night we had first met, perched on top of the player. I kissed it and then held it to my heart, and left boob as it were, before placing it back on the turntable.

I walked towards the bed and lay down on it, slightly nervous now that the moment had finally come to commit the act I had been waiting to perform for so long. The pain scared me a little but so did letting John down. We'd already done some very interesting acts but this one meant a lot to me and I was scared that I would disappoint him in some way. When Constantine finally walked through the door, he was holding a record in his hand and winked at me and gave me his beautiful smile again as he turned to the record player and removed the unicorn from it to place the LP he'd brought in with him on it.

When he turned around, he saw me still on my back and anxiously grabbing a handful of his blanket. He sat down on the edge of the bed and studied me. "Nervous?" John asked.

"Yeah," I replied. "A little."

Constantine smoothed the hair from off of my forehead and then lightly trailed his hand to my breasts and started to caress them sensuously. I shifted as he took one of my nipples in his hand and massaged it. His unoccupied hand dipped between the crevice between my legs. "You're a little dry," he stated. "We cleaned you up a little _too_ well. We'll have to fix that."

Taking both hands away from my body, Constantine went to his knees on the bed, and parting my legs, placed himself between them. He lowered his head to mine and kissed me while his hand dipped inside of me once more and started to rub my clit in the same sensuous and sure movement he had used on my nipple. I kissed him back passionately until we eventually parted.

When we had, John looked down at my breasts in fond remembrance. "These..." he said and then licked them, his tongue going from the pale, smooth skin to the pink rosebud peak and making me arch my back and moan. I watched as Constantine took his tongue away, a bridge made of saliva from my now erect nipple to his own pink tongue. "Playing with these is what really turned you on in that closet, didn't it?"

I breathed heavily, moaning again as I felt him still playing with my quickly swelling clitoris and remembering the attention he had paid my chest back in the Midnight Club. "Y-yes," I confessed.

Constantine's mouth found the other teat now and started to suck on it and I could feel my clit responding and that anxious hollow of mine burn with delicious, heated pressure.

"There you go again," Constantine said. "You drove me crazy back there knowing what I was doing to you...that's what did it. Seeing you come alive from my touch...it made me harder than I've ever been in my life. Even when I was a teenager. Tell me, was I the first to do that to you?"

I nodded and whimpered.

"I thought so," he stated before returning back to the other breast to suck on that nipple too.

I squirmed beneath him, feeling as if my nub had become this large thing in his fingers and my labia and vagina were expanding, making way for a small truck to ram through them. I felt wet and that first bit of it dripping out from me and on to Constantine's worn, blue bedsheet.

"When Midnite interrupted us...I was close to killing him," John confessed, lifting his head from off of my large breast again. "I wanted nothing more to push all of myself up into you, Erin. All that wetness... your arousal and mine...well that was a sin to have gone to waste."

I could feel John's erection brushing against my naked thigh; it was urgent in its own need but he was stalling it in order to take care of mine.

"Anhhh..." I cried out as he returned to sucking on my tits. I thrusted my hips forward, feeling the exact same excitement I had felt in the closet but now with no chance of Constantine not being able to fulfill his wish in time.

The man took his hand from out of my labia and rubbed a nipple while sucking on the other as I made small cries beneath him. When he lifted his hand, I saw my cream glistening on my peak until, seeing it too, John descended on it and licked and sucked it off, sending more bolts of pleasure though me. He repeated the action with the other teat, turning me into a mess, until he lifted his head from off of me, seeming to have an idea.

"I want to _taste_ you, Erin," he stated and in one smooth movement he slid his body down my own until his head was at my vulva.

"John!" I cried for mercy but he was deaf to my plea.

Where once his fingers had played, his tongue was now doing the same, while his hands went to my breasts to grasp them hungrily.

"C-Constantine!" I called out but I only encouraged him.

His mouth was exploring my cunt while his hands were showing my breasts their respect and admiration. I could feel him tasting me like he claimed he wanted to, his tongue dipping up past my hymen and flicking inside of the path his cock would soon be taking.

I could not take it anymore. So overloaded with different sexual sensations, I experienced the feeling of undeniable pressure similar to needing to pee and knew he had brought me to climax once more.

"John, I'm...I'm...I'm..."

The words wouldn't come out; instead my body started to convulse as I cried out, all while John Constantine's face was buried in my crotch.

When he finally took it away, and I lay there panting, I managed to say teasingly, "I...I hope you left some cream down there... gl-glutton."

Constantine smiled at me, his cheeks and chin glistening. "Yeah," he commented dipping his fingers inside again only to take them out to show me the thick amount of fluid covering them. "You get pretty wet. I like it. You still nervous?"

"Kind of," I confessed.

He wiped his hands off on the bedsheet and touched my cheek. "Don't be," he said. "If it's because of me, I love you, Erin. That's what makes this count; you taught that to me."

"An awful drastic lesson," I joked.

"Perhaps," Constantine agreed with a wry smile. "Those things outside also showed me that I think we get along pretty well, you and I. That we can cohabitate peacefully...so when this is all over...I was wondering if you'd like to move in. Permanently."

I beamed up at him. "Yes!"

"Good," John Constantine stated. "I'd miss not having you around. But you'll be sleeping here from now on."

"With pleasure," I cooed. Suddenly my eyes fell to the obvious erection that the exorcist was still sporting underneath his trousers. "Speaking of which, hasn't that been waiting long enough?" I asked slyly. "Don't you think we should take care of it again, the demanding thing?"

"Certainly," he said with a smile, wiping his face off on his sleeved elbow. "But first..."

I watched as Constantine climbed out of the bed and walked towards the window of his room. Confidently he threw the curtain open wide and drew the blinds revealing one Virginitas Incubi clutching the pane of glass. Although the demons all looked similar, I would have bet my life that it was the ugly little bugger that had started this all by attacking me that one night which now felt like it had taken place around the time Mozart was giving concerts or Shakespeare was writing plays.

"Do you mind one witness for the big event?" John asked me.

"Not at all," I said with a laugh.

Constantine left both the window and the Incubi screetching in anger behind him.

"I think we need some music," John announced and headed towards the record player, finally playing the album he had brought in.

The Ramones "Baby, I Love You," started to play loudly, blaring out the scream of the demon outside. John looked at me and I could tell from the look in his eyes that Joey Ramone was singing the words that he would have liked to say to me if emotions could be more easily turned into words for him. I smiled at John Constantine, telling him wordlessly that I understood. Unzipping his trousers and lowering them, John knelt on the bed before me again with his erection on full and glorious display. I brought my right foot to it and lightly caressed its head with the balls of my toes.

"Aren't you going to take the rest of your clothes off?" I asked.

"I'm modest," Constantine said while his beautiful cock stood proud, large and impatient before me.

"Pity," I said, feeling my toes suddenly becoming wet with precome.

Spreading my legs wide, John placed his weeping penis at my entrance and we both turned in unison to look at our voyeur as I wrapped my arms once again around Constantine's broad shoulders.

"Good night," John Constantine said to the creature. "Sorry to break it to you but you were nothing but a bad dream..."

Turning his head, John's eyes locked with mine seeking consent. I nodded, giving it to him with the whole of my mind, heart and soul.

It was all that he needed.

Constantine thrusted inside of me in a swift motion that tore the thin layer blocking my opening effortlessly. His penis glided in smoothly, however, due to my arousal and the vast amount of fluid created between us. I called out in a moment of pain, digging my nails into Constantine's back but it was only in passing as I felt his cock filling me and finally reaching the place inside of me that had yearned to be touched since I had been only a little girl.

"You okay?" I heard Constantine ask and from his voice I could tell that he was restraining himself from fully taking me in the way that he longed to, afraid that he may hurt me.

In reply, I kissed him passionately, moving my hips to take him in deeper and show to him that I _wanted_ him to lose his self control and claim me completely. These two actions were all he needed too; John Constantine started to slide his pulsating organ in and out, making it hit that pressure point repeatedly as I cried out each time that he did.

"Is it...is it good for you TOO?" I asked desperately.

"Yes," he cried in ecstasy. "YES!"

"Anh...ahhhhhh...GOOD!" I screamed out in my own erotic bliss as we both continued our pelvic maneuvers.

When John started to kiss my mouth, neck and then returned his lips back to my breasts, kissing the furiously bouncing mounds and clamping down first on one nipple and then the next to suckle and twirl his tongue around, I let out an impassioned moan as I felt another orgasm coming fast and fierce.

"JOHN!"

He removed his mouth from off of my breast to kiss all the way back up my throat and to my lips again.

The motions of my vagina and the wildly spasming flesh of my lower extremities pushed Constantine forward towards his own climax and I felt him ejaculating what felt like a small flood inside of me. The exorcist spent his seed furiously into my womb and I moaned his name over and over as he kissed me again and again.

Panting and out of breath we looked at one another and started to laugh. John Constantine stayed inside of me for a minute, kissing my face and lips until he pulled out and I experienced the brief pain of losing him. He was by my side and holding me tightly before I could remain mourning the departure of his cock from my body. I had his heart, after all, and that was far more important to me.

* * *

We woke up with the morning sun shining through the open window and on to our faces. Constantine and I had been so immersed in our lovemaking, having subsequently fallen asleep lying in one another's arms, that we had forgotten to even check to see if the Virginitas had still been watching us from his place at the window. The sunshine being able to make it through the window and to us, while we lay on the bed, proved that the nightmare was over once and for all: the Incubi were gone.

As was my virginity.

And I would mourn neither's passing.

I offered God a silent prayer of gratitude that it had been John Constantine to save me from both and that I had saved my virginity for a decent and kind man, even if he would always doubt that he was. It didn't matter: I'd be there to remind him.

"Good morning sunshine," I heard the deep voice of Constantine whisper as he held me from behind and kissed first my ear and then the side of my face.

"Good morning," I returned and tilted my head so he could kiss my lips next.

Afterwards, I moved closer into my lover's embrace and John Constantine and I both lay there enjoying the feel of each other's skin as we looked at the sky of perfect blue lying on the other side of the window.

Yes. Los Angeles can be Hell.

But it can also be Heaven too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *sniff* *sniff*
> 
> I'm gonna miss this story! I really loved writing it and just love John Constantine and his supernatural noir world.
> 
> I have to admit that using "Baby I Love You" was a blatant ode or rip-off to Warren Ellis' time writing Excalibur and Kitty Pryde/Peter Wisdom, which were already referenced in this story once already. But if I did lose my virginity I would want it to be to that song too because it is just so sweet and perfect! :D <3
> 
> Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed it! Much love! :D <3


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